Hearing Problems
by Bloodstained Comma
Summary: As well as blessings, devil fruits could also be burdens on those who consumed them. Such was the case of five-year-old Lyon D. Karimi, who was unfortunate enough to accidentally consume a rather irritating one. For the Story Convention on The Muse Bunny.
1. One of Those Times

_YAAAY finally my first One Piece story._

_My motivation to continue it will be not wanting to be disqualified from a story convention it's going to be entered in on The Muse Bunny, which is a brilliant writing site that I definitely recommend to anyone who writes fanfiction. It's **themusebunny . proboards . com**, just erase the spaces between the words and the periods.  
_

_So, a **brief summary**.  
Lyon D. Rolf has two problems. These problems take the form of a pirate crew he has to keep under control and a daughter he has to try to raise on this pirate ship by himself. Things aren't easy, and they are made harder still during a terrible starvation period between islands on the Grand Line in which his five-year-old daughter Karimi eats a devil fruit under the assumption that it's a normal fruit, and because there just isn't any other food around. This devil fruit turns out to be the Kiku Kiku no Mi, which gives Karimi extraordinary hearing abilities - such as being able to hear the thoughts of everyone on the crew or anyone she comes near at all - which only creates further problems for Lyon. This story will take place in between the time that Karimi is five and probably around sixteen, and it will do so in about twelve chapters, because that's my limit for this story._

_Now, my word count per chapter can be no less than 2,500. Microsoft Word told me that my word count of this chapter was exactly 2,463, so there shouldn't be any problems, I don't think. Fanfiction .net is telling me that the count is 2,515, but I'm going by Microsoft Word, which still tells me 2,463. I hope that fanfiction .net being weird about it doesn't screw things up for me. It was very difficult for me to type under 3,000 words for a chapter, since I'm used to going well over 3,000, so I really hope that Microsoft Word is enough to be reassuring that this story is under 2,500 words.  
_

_Anyway, the pirate crew is completely original, but they have alliances and enemies in canon crews and whatnot - which will go on to be explained in prequels and sequels when I write them. So, anyway. Onward I do go._

_**Disclaimer:** Yeah, I don't own One Piece. Wish I did. I'd give Shanks a bigger part in it because he's just awesome like that. But I don't, so Shanks will remain a semi-minor-major character. I also don't own Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I think I should mention that since I borrowed Janx's name from a fictional alcohol in the books, because I liked it as a name.  
_

_**Warnings:** Alcohol. Yeah. Pirates, y'know. That's just how they are and stuff.  
_

_**Quote, anyone?:**_  
_"So, what now?" he said, looking around at the crew. "Shall I send word to the Marines that we would prefer to be known as the Cuddly Pirates from now on?"  
Lyon pushed Janx off the staircase as a response and took another swig of rum, trying very hard not to laugh at it all himself._

* * *

As much as they could be a blessing, devil fruits could also be a burden unto those who consumed them.

Such was the case five-year-old Lyon D. Karimi, who had been travelling on her father's ship for all of the five years she had been alive. Never before in that time had they encountered a stretch of water between two islands that was so long that they should run out of food before they even arrived anywhere else, but not one person who had sailed the Grand Line had ever claimed it to be anything but cruel and relentless. Only one piece of food was left upon the ship. There were many pirates who would willingly eat such a thing, but none of them were aboard the Sedna Sunrise. They had fought for ages to get the thing, and they would be damned if they would let it slip through their fingers just because they were all a bit hungry after a few days without food. It rather angered the captain that his entire crew was as stubborn as he was – though the anger could have just been a side effect of the beginnings of starvation – and so after making the offer to his crew, he decided to spend the rest of the day in the captain's cabin with a couple bottles of rum, leaving the treasure chest containing the fruit out on the deck wide open, for all hungry eyes to look at.

"If anyone wants to survive," he had informed the crew, "then go on ahead and eat it. If we all die before we get to the next town, then it's not like we're going to be able to sell it for anything anyway."

And with that, he had stalked off irritably to his cabin and slammed the door behind him. The first mate had reluctantly assumed the duties of captain for the rest of the day, since the actual captain had informed him that he "really wasn't in the mood to deal with a bunch of masochistically suicidal drunken idiots today." In such a situation, the captain's only real duties were making sure that the ship kept to its course. That, however, was also the navigator's job, so the captain's only job was making sure the navigator was doing whatever the navigator was supposed to be doing. Even so, the entire crew – first mate included – definitely preferred it when the captain wasn't in a bad mood. He was normally quite amiable, if not a bit of a scatterbrain.

All of this fuss had occurred quite early in the morning, and so Karimi had been soundly asleep for all of it. Therefore, she had been rather curious when she walked past the treasure chest containing the fruit. None of the crew had paid her any attention as she had picked it up and walked up the stairs onto the quarterdeck, where much of the crew was rather busy being slumped about, too miserable and hungry to notice much of anything except the fact that no birds were flying anywhere near where they might be able to get a clean shot at them and hope to salvage them for food.

No one else had been eating the fruit. Karimi thought they all looked rather hungry, so this didn't make much sense to her at all. Granted, it looked a bit like a lemon, but with as hungry as she was, she wasn't about to be picky about anything tasting too sour or too sweet or too anything, really. If it was poisonous, then it wouldn't have been left lying about like it was. Shrugging to herself, she took a seat at the top of the stairs and began peeling the golden colored skin off of the thing. She examined it a bit more after the skin was off. It definitely wasn't a lemon that someone had drawn swirly designs on, since the designs were also underneath the outer layer of the fruit's skin. It still didn't seem like it could have been anything bad, or else it would have been kept somewhere else. Regardless, she was hungry and she wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away from her.

Isolated from all of this, the captain himself had irritably kicked his boots across the room and flumped onto his bed, glaring at the half empty rum bottle in his hand. He really didn't need this. Pirates were supposed to like gold and money and shiny things in general, sure, but they should at least have _some_ kind of a will to live. He would have eaten the damn thing, but doing so would cause him to explode, which probably wouldn't prove to be very good for the crew.

Sullen and still glaring at nothing in particular, he took a swig of rum, listening to the hubbub out on the deck. He scowled at this as well, at their general inability to remain quiet in any situation – but no, that wasn't right. They had all been annoyingly morose and hushed earlier in their miserable hunger. Now there were sounds of panic. Was that something to be annoyed at? It seemed like it, but that could just be his sobriety thinking for him – he normally didn't allow such a heinous thing to think for him, but halfway into his second bottle of rum and not so much as a buzz, what choice did _he_ have on the matter? Regardless, something terribly weird was going on out there. Finding out what it was would probably be a good idea. He was captain, after all. It seemed to be his responsibility.

As he was standing, he heard a loud yell at everyone to be quiet. Everyone was quiet. The yelling for everyone to be quiet continued. That was also very weird. A moment later the voice clicked familiarly in his mind, and he was out of the captain's cabin and on the quarterdeck in a flash. Neglecting the stairs, he jumped down to the main deck, forced his way through the silent and rather nervous looking crew that was surrounding a corner, and kneeled down in front of the source of the yelling. His first mate was already there, assuming the duties of captain as he had been instructed to do, and doing a very poor job of it. Given the situation, it really wasn't a surprise.

Everyone was completely silent and Karimi was still yelling at them all about how they were being much too loud and that they really needed to be quiet. She was huddled with her hands over her head, her head on her knees, shaking rather more than what was normal or healthy for anyone.

This was one of those times, he thought to himself. He removed the battered tricorne hat from atop his head to run a hand distractedly over his hair, thinking that this was one of those times when being a captain and a father all at once was just too damn much to deal with. Lyon replaced his hat, calmly told most of the crew to go stand at the other side of the ship before he saw fit to drag them all over there – and added that they should probably be quiet. All but his first mate – who Lyon had told to stay in case his head exploded or something – scarpered off fairly quickly. Once the majority of the crew had gone off and remained silently watchful from the other side of the ship, Karimi calmed down a bit. Rather than yelling, she resolved into sobbing and begging in a much quieter manner for everyone to stop being so loud.

Lyon still hadn't quite figured this one out, being that no one was talking. He shot a look at Janx, his first mate, who looked about as confused as Lyon felt.

"Well?"

"It – it was definitely the devil's fruit, captain," he said carefully, his eyes darting to the five-year-old girl to make sure she wasn't going to bark at him to be quiet. "I'm just not entirely sure when she got to it or what exactly it's done."

All right, so then leaving it there had been a bad idea. The crew hadn't gotten to it, but maybe it wouldn't have had such a profound effect on one of them. It was possible that it might have a stronger effect on children, sort of like alcohol or medicine had a stronger effect on them. Maybe devil fruits could go bad? Perhaps – and the thought was a very unwelcome one, no doubt pushed into his mind by the sadistic entity of sobriety that was inhabiting his body with him at that moment – it had been tainted with somehow, poisoned.

Inexplicably, her sobbing grew louder at this. His mind was working a little slower than normal without the rum working to loosen its hinges a little bit, but after a moment, he found his eyes slowly widening at a thought that had crossed his mind. That thought was that perhaps the devil fruit was enabling her to hear any thought that crossed his or any of the other crews' minds.

"This could be very…" he started, but he was trailing off by the time Janx looked up at him. What could it be? Bad? Surely not, as long as she got a handle on the ability. Lyon himself had had a little trouble with his to begin with. It hadn't been this much, but he had also been nearly ten years older at the time than she was now. His had also been something a lot easier to deal with, if not somewhat amusing.

For a five-year-old child to suddenly be able to hear all the thoughts of everyone surrounding her – especially when everyone surrounding her was so utterly miserable – wouldn't be an easy thing for that five-year-old to deal with.

"What d'you think it is?"

"I think it is us thinking that's the problem."

Janx also took a moment, but his eyes were also widening in realization after a moment. "You think it's letting her read everyone's mind?"

Lyon thought about this for a moment, then replied slowly, "No, not so much read as hear. If she was reading our minds, she wouldn't be covering her ears. There's a difference. Reading would be a lot easier to cope with. Suddenly hearing a load of voices in her head that don't belong with her wouldn't be, hence…" He waved a hand in the direction of his daughter, who had calmed down a little again now that Lyon himself wasn't inwardly panicking. "I definitely wouldn't want to hear all the thoughts of a bunch of half-starved, miserable pirates all at the same time." Thoughtfully, he added, "I'm honestly having enough issues with my own right now."

"And the fact that they're sober, no doubt."

"Don't remind me," he growled. Janx sniggered, and Lyon shot him a look that quite clearly told him he shouldn't be sniggering. Therefore he stopped sniggering and simply laughed. "Keep as much of the crew off of the quarterdeck as you can, I'll be taking her into the cabin to see if we can sort this out at all."

* * *

A good hour or so later, Lyon returned alone from the cabin with a new bottle of rum, feeling slightly less sober than he had earlier and at least slightly happy about that. He took a seat on the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck that Janx was standing guard at – or rather sitting guard at, since he had been sitting there as well when Lyon also took a seat, swaying slightly.

"Catch a buzz finally?"

"After two and a half bottles. About damn time, I say."

"So what's the verdict on the kid?"

Lyon looked up at the sails for a moment as he spoke. "I'm not sure. I'd say she's going to have issues with large crowds for a while. She calmed down quite a bit once I explained what was going on, at least. We're all just going to have to be very careful about what we think from now on." Janx snorted in response to this. Lyon looked at him. "What?"

"Try telling the rest of the crew that."

"I will in a minute. After I tell them the good news, of course. She fell asleep, but she was hearing some other voices before that. From the general gist of what she heard, I'd say we're very close to the next island."

"That's great. I could do with some food that won't do weird things to my sense of hearing."

After another minute or so, Lyon stood and crossed to the center of the railing that ran across the front of the quarterdeck and called everyone to attention from what they were doing.

"I have some very good news and some news that you will most likely consider bad." He paused to let them discuss this amongst themselves a bit, but more to take another swig of rum. "Good news first, since it really is good news. We're close to the next island, and it is inhabited, so there will be food." This time he did have to pause, since this brought about a general hubbub of cheering and a rush to find some way to make the ship go faster. Once they had settled and quieted, he continued. "There is bad news, as I said. Due to the fact that that devil fruit was apparently what we might call… let's say, a Kiku Kiku no Mi, we're all going to have to be very careful what we think about, since she –" He pointed back over his shoulder towards the captain's cabin, "can now hear all of our thoughts."

"Well, what are we supposed to be thinking about, then?" asked someone – someone who turned out to be Janx being a smart ass.

"Er…" Lyon thought for a moment. "Cuddly things. You know, puppies, kittens, unicorns, rainbows."

"When did rainbows become cuddly?"

"All right then, scratch rainbows and replace it with bunnies or something. And be quiet, Janx."

After a general uproar from the crew at having their thoughts controlled, Lyon took his previous seat five minutes later, somewhat amused by the absurdity of the argument he had just had with his crew. Of course, Janx had to put in his two cents now that the official meeting was over.

"So, what now?" he said, looking around at the crew. "Shall I send word to the Marines that we would prefer to be known as the Cuddly Pirates from now on?"

Lyon pushed Janx off the staircase as a response and took another swig of rum, trying very hard not to laugh at it all himself. This was definitely one of those times.

* * *

_And there we have it, my first ever chapter of my first ever One Piece story. _

_I think Janx is my favorite OC so far. He's going to be quite fun to write._

_Oh, and random translation._

_Kiku = listen in Japanese._

_So, the Kiku Kiku no Mi is just the name of this particular devil fruit, or at least what Lyon has decided to call it.  
_


	2. Pursued

_Oh, this was a tremendous amount of fun! And I'm not being sarcastic, it really was :D_

_So, for the next chapters - including this one - those entered in the Convention will be given a list of five items and five phrases that will need to be included in the chapter. For this one, they were as follows:_

_**Napkin**  
Helix  
**Beetle**  
Sketch book  
**Feather duster**  
"... because I'm trapped in an elevator, that's why."  
**"Will I see you tomorrow?"**  
"Sometimes you can be quite a pain."  
**"Are you chewing? You know I hate chewers."**  
"We won't be skipping off into the sunset anytime soon, will we?"_

_The only thing I had any real trouble with was the helix. Metal spiral shaped object. I ended up using it as a covering for a light on a streetlamp, since that's actually pretty common and, I think, rather pretty (picture here: _**ecx. images-amazon. com/images/I/21Rf1sbVluL. _SL500_AA280_. jpg**_ , just take out all of the spaces in the url) It was either that or use it as one of those hangy metal decorations that spiral in the wind and stuff. They're pretty as well, but the streetlamp was better, since it turned out to be more amusing. Not the helix itself, just the streetlamp. You'll see in a bit._

_My favorite phrase was the last one. Almost everything fit perfectly for what I had planned for this chapter, but none so much as that last phrase. I saw it and was all like "YES!" xD_

_So, yeah. Like I said. This was fun._

_Oh. And cameos from Garp. He'll be making a few more. You'll find out more about that as the story goes on.  
_

* * *

The rather noisy little pub was more than used to pirates dropping in on them at random occasions, famous or rookies, good or bad. They were good customers when they actually paid for what they ordered, so no one usually complained about them. Today, however, was bound to be different, even for a place like Jaya. The first mark of this was that just behind the Sedna Sunrise, not far beyond the horizon, was a Marine ship Lyon had been unaware was pursuing him. It would get there very soon, and the Hurricane Pirates would cause quite a stir in not only the little pub they would claim as their headquarters for the next few days, but in all of Mock Town.

A barmaid stood unaware of any of this behind a bar, flipping through channels on a television mounted to the wall and catching only snippets of lines from different shows.

"… because I'm trapped in an elevator, that's why. Now –"

"– temperatures will most likely be in the mid seventies –"

"– relying completely on Vice-Admiral Garp in his pursuit –"

And she shut off the television. No one was really going to watch it, anyway. They would all be too busy drinking. She sighed heavily as she set the remote back on a shelf near the television and took to idly unfolding and refolding a cloth napkin set on the bar in front of one of the barstools. It had been a slow day.

That wasn't bound to last for very long.

* * *

"Sometimes you can be quite a pain," Lyon said loudly enough to be heard over Janx's laughter as the two walked down a busy street in Mock Town, scoping out decent bars. "I told you you're only supposed to be –"

"Thinking about cuddly things, yes," Janx agreed, still laughing. "And I was! Shag carpeting _is_ rather cuddly."

"You weren't thinking about carpeting at all."

"That was _really_ the worst possible devil fruit for a kid on a pirate ship to find," Janx said, ignoring his captain's accusation. "The Marines'll have a field day with it when they find out. I'm telling you, your bounty poster'll say 'Lyon, Captain of the Cuddly Pirates.'"

Lyon rolled his eyes and pushed him by the shoulder into the open door of a nearby building, and continued walking until he heard Janx's voice a moment later, coming from that same building.

"Hey, a pub!"

He paused at this and looked back over his shoulder at the building a little more closely. It was indeed a pub, as proclaimed a sign hanging over its doorway, upon which a few birds were perched. Without a moment's hesitation, Lyon turned and headed back for the pub. He walked into his first mate upon entering, who was still standing in the doorway, looking around and reflecting on how good his luck must have been for him to have been pushed into exactly the sort of place he'd been looking for. Lyon walked around him and headed over to the bar, taking a seat at a barstool. Janx joined him a moment later as the barmaid came over and asked if she could help them.

"Yes. Rum," was Lyon's response.

"How much?"

"All of it."

After being explained to that he couldn't have _all_ of the rum, as there were other people in the pub, he settled on just a bottle for the time being. The barmaid went through the same thing with Janx about whiskey, but he eventually settled – after much more arguing that Lyon had done – on just one bottle of it until further notice.

"So where've you sent the rest of the crew off to?" Janx asked. "Gathering supplies?"

"Yeah. We ran out of nearly everything on the way here. Clara's still on the ship since she volunteered to keep Karimi out of trouble, but dunno what everyone else'll be doing after they're done with that. We have to stay here for four days for the Log Pose to set."

"Party?" Janx suggested with a shrug.

Lyon grinned. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

A few minutes after the two had walked in, a man sitting off at the far end of the bar tore a page out of a sketch book he had been working in. He held the page up, looking between it and the two pirates at the end of the bar nearest the entrance. With a nod of approval at the page, he stood up and headed for the door. Outside, one bird remained sitting atop the pub's sign, one of many of a species of large birds that the World Government used for carrying and delivering anything from newspapers to wanted posters to important messages. The latter was the purpose this one would be used for. The bird, clutching the paper in its talons, was to fly off to a Marine ship not too far away to deliver the message that _they_ were here.

By the time the message reached the Marine ship, it was closing time at the bar Lyon and Janx had claimed as their "headquarters" for the next few days. They, along with a few crewmembers that had found them, had to be shooed from the place by a cleaning woman brandishing a feather duster at them and informing them that closing time had actually been an hour ago and they were lucky she let them stay for as long as she did. Janx stumbled out of the bar first, and straight into a metal pole that curved into a helix at the top to cover a streetlight, one of many lining the road. He apologized to it and patted it on what he thought was its shoulder before stumbling off into the night.

"And _don't_ come back!" the cleaning woman had snapped at them before slamming the door and locking it.

Lyon blinked at the door a bit before going after Janx to inform him that the ship was the other way. Janx shrugged, turned around, and stumbled off into the night in the other direction.

"Old bat," Janx proclaimed cheerfully, stumbling onto the deck of the ship only a few minutes later. "Ya'd think she coulda been a bit nicer about lettin' us stay a bit longer, unsociable bitch that she was. That barmaid, though, I tell ya, she'd'a been a good sh– oh, right, there's a five-year-old 'at can read minds somewhere 'round here." He stumbled over to the stairs that led up to the quarterdeck and sat down on the lowest one. "Cuddly things, right. Kittens and rainbows n' all that…." And with that, he fell over sideways on that last stair, passed out. Lyon, the last aboard (as Janx had more or less been talking to himself), more or less went through the same routine, only it was quite a bit shorter. He fought to gain his balance on the deck, failed, fell back against the railing, and passed out there.

The same thing went on for the next few days. Janx struck up a false relationship with the barmaid on the second night, claiming he was considering settling down from piracy and becoming a more permanent resident in Jaya. The third night, as it was their last night in the town, proved to be the night the entire crew joined in on the festivities as well as the night everyone drank the most. Therefore, the fourth morning proved to be the worst. Janx woke up on the quarterdeck that morning and didn't move for at least ten minutes, fighting a horrible migraine and the waves of nausea threatening to overcome him. He lost the battle, as he generally did with hangovers of this magnitude, and stood to stumble over to the edge of the deck and throw up over the railing. Lyon, who was standing right next to the bit of railing Janx had just chosen to do this over, grimaced slightly. He had just finished doing that a few minutes ago, and was now eating a piece of toast in hopes that it might prevent him from doing it again. Janx definitely wasn't being much of a help.

After a few minutes more, Janx collapsed to his knees in a defeated sort of way, still holding onto the railing with one hand. Then he grimaced, and showed the first sign that he actually realized he wasn't alone. He ran a hand over his hair, then covered his face with that same hand, and spoke intol it.

"Are you chewing? You know I hate chewers," he said in an irritated, muffled manner.

Lyon also grimaced as he took another bite of toast, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stop yelling, I have a headache," he snapped in response.

"I'll stop yelling when you stop chewing."

"There's a bug on your arm."

Janx glanced down at it and grabbed it. It was a bit larger than his hand and had rather threatening looking horn-like protrusions growing from its head. Grumbling, he dropped it onto the floor of the quarterdeck. "Hercules Beetle. Their native to Jaya, there's loads of them in a forest on the other side of the island." He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to get it to stop pounding. He caught a glimpse of something a moment later that made him jump to his feet and lean over the edge of the ship to look around.

"What're you –?"

"Marine ships," he said, pointing. Lyon looked around and spotted them as well.

"We'll need to be leaving soon, then. The Log Pose should be set by the end of the day."

Janx shrugged. "I'm all for drowning this damn hangover in more whiskey until then. We'll just have to be careful with marines around. There are loads of pirates here, they could be looking for anyone."

* * *

A news channel was playing on the television in the pub, and it was proclaiming that Mock Town was going to have yet another sunny spring day with only a slight chance of showers in the afternoon. Lyon had given up attempting to order all of the rum after his second day in the town, and he had to stay at least something like sober if he wanted to stay alert of the marines. He doubted they were following him, but there was always that one in a million chance. The television proclaimed to him a moment later, however, that the odds were completely and utterly against him.

"A new report from the Marine Headquarters states that Vice-Admiral Garp has arrived in Mock Town this morning in pursuit of the infamous Hurricane Pirates, captained by Lyon –"

Lyon didn't hear anything else, as he was busy choking on a mouthful of rum in his surprise at hearing such a thing. He looked sharply up at the television. He then looked over at Janx, who was too busy gaping at the television screen to realize he was being looked at by anyone. He swallowed and then looked down at Lyon. "Did they just say Vice-Admiral –?" Lyon nodded. "Oh, shit. We've gotta go."

"Now," Lyon agreed as Janx lay a bit of money on the bar and beckoned the barmaid over.

"Looks like I'll be leaving a little sooner than expected," he informed her. "A few marines are in town looking for me, I've got to get going soon or there'll be trouble here."

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked, though not very hopefully.

"I doubt it."

After apologizing quickly to her, he was dragged forcibly out of the pub by the arm. He jerked it back and glared at Lyon. "What was that for, you–?" he began indignantly.

"There were already a couple of marines in there," he said.

Janx looked over his shoulder at the door of the pub. "Should I go tell them we now prefer to be known as the Cuddly Pirates for future reference?"

Lyon sighed impatiently. "You're so amused by that that you haven't yet realized you're the First Mate of the Cuddly Pirates, have you?"

Janx shot a glare at him, and then elbowed him into an innocent bystander. Lyon turned to apologize, but instead decided, as Janx had at that moment, that it would be a better idea to run, as it was actually a marine that Lyon had just been elbowed into. Behind him, he heard him yelling, "Vice-Admiral Garp! Lyon just ran off down the street!" Lyon flinched.

They took a detour down a back road and slowed down a little.

"We won't be skipping off into the sunset anytime soon, will we?" Janx said bitterly.

"Skipping? Definitely not. Running wildly towards it with a hundred or so heavily armed Marines chasing us? Very possibly."

* * *

_And on that bombshell, I'm off._


	3. Just Déjà Vu

_Yays for plot development. And introducing new, semi-important OCs.  
_

_And for torturing the heck out of OCs._

_The list for this week:**  
Globe**  
French bread  
**Iron gate**  
Pinstriped suit  
**Wooden leg**  
"Congratulations. You are now a class-A jerk."  
**"Honestly! Can't you do anything right?"**  
"Maaaan. I hate it when ovens explode." (My favorite one for this week xD)**  
"I solemnly swear never to peek on girls/guys in the shower. However, I won't look away if they leave the door/curtains open."**  
"Maybe they'll invent such a thing someday."_

_Oh, what fun it all was xD Especially the oven one. First line in this chapter. Oh yes._

_And onto the point._

_**Disclaimer**: You already know it. I own nothing. Even my OCs are considering disowning me with all the crap I'm putting them through.  
**Warnings**: Swearing, alcohol, all that piratey stuff.  
**Quoteymabobber**:_  
_"Does the name 'Lyon D. Helena' ring any bells?"  
Lyon blinked rapidly. "Wh… why?" he repeated, shaking his head.  
"Because you, my friend, are the Grim Reaper's bitch." With an aggravated, laborious sigh in response to this, Lyon sat down heavily in the middle of the wooden floor._

**XxxXxx****XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX**

"Maaaan." Janx spun the globe sitting on top of the desk in the captain's cabin. "I hate it when ovens explode."

Lyon's brow furrowed as he looked up at his first mate, turning his own attention from a map also sitting on the desk. "Is that why you look like you've been on fire recently?"

"More or less, yes," he said, shrugging slightly as he continued his examination of the globe.

"And you caused it, I'm assuming?" He shrugged slightly again. Lyon shook his head and looked back down at the map. He frowned at it for a few moments before picking it up, crumbling it into a ball, and tossing it over his shoulder. He doubted he would ever understand the damn things. "You're paying for the new one out of your cut this time."

"But I spent everything in Jaya. We were out of whiskey, we needed more, so I took the liberty of purchasing it myself. And what are we supposed to do until I _get_ the money? Not eat? I can't _not eat_. The oven is in flames right now because I was being forced to _not eat_."

"Where's the cook?"

"Talking to one of the navigators."

"What's the navigator doing talking to the cook?"

"Having a panic attack about the Log Pose going bonkers."

Lyon frowned again. "Clara?"

"Not a fully blown panic attack. Isn't doctor territory yet. At the moment it would be better handled by a psychiatrist. And besides, you have Clara watching the kid at the moment."

"All right, take a mental note that we need to find a ship psychiatrist soon. I think it would do everyone here a whole world of good."

"You've been saying that for a year."

"And we've been needing one for around that long."

Janx shrugged again slightly in agreement. It wouldn't take too terribly long for the captain to realize what was going on, even if he could be a little bit slow at times. Janx had complained and protested about it, but the majority had overruled him, and the only real reason he was trapped in here was because he would only be pushed back in by about five other crewmembers who were listening at the door if he attempted to escape before getting to the point. Lyon was already in a fairly ill mood about being chased around the Grand Line by Garp, and now there was this to add to it. Janx valued his life, and wouldn't have ever volunteered to do something like this if he hadn't been made to do so completely by force.

Indeed, after a moment, Lyon's brow furrowed and his slightly confused frown returned again, accompanied by a question on the topic that the crew had elected Janx to tell him about: "What exactly… _is_ the Log Pose doing that's making everyone panic?" Janx opened his mouth to reply, but Lyon continued on to answer his own question with another one. "Is it spinning a lot? If it's doing that then we could have a huge problem on our hands. Is it?" Janx nodded slowly. "Damn it…" he said, standing from the desk. "I'm really surprised you don't remember it from Roger's ship." With that, Lyon left, grabbing a bottle of what was doubtlessly rum from his desk as he did so. Janx stared at the door for a moment before exiting himself. He had very much been hoping that he would be the only one to come to _that_ conclusion.

Janx found where the Log Pose had been set on the railing of the quarterdeck, where a good bit of the crew was looking at it in a mixture of wonder and worry. It wasn't every day that a Log Pose malfunctioned. In fact, it was rarely ever, which was what led Lyon to believe what he believed as he watched the needle in the thing spin circles around its little globe, pointing in every direction it possibly could.

"A million beli to whoever can figure out what's wrong with this damned thing," Hizashi, the head navigator, was saying.

"A million?" Janx said interestedly as he joined the group and pushed himself to the front. If he was going to be replacing that oven, he needed something. He knew what was wrong with the Log Pose – and that, in fact, absolutely nothing _was_ wrong with it – so this would be easy money.

"And a leg. Take your pick, either leg."

Lyon looked at the Log Pose, scowling as he remembered seeing something quite the same from his early days in piracy, before he had formed his own crew, back when he had been just an apprentice. Janx had other things on his mind as he raised an eyebrow and looked down at Hizashi's one wooden leg.

"You really can't afford to lose any more of those, can you?" He looked back up at Hizashi hopefully. "Replace the leg idea with another million and you will have yourself a deal–"

"Gaston, the damn _bastard_." He looked at Janx, and his glare turned to reproach at the glare he was receiving.

"Congratulations. You are now a class-A jerk." Lyon looked baffled at this. "You just as good as stole the two million beli I was about to get to pay for the new oven with. We're all going to starve now."

Lyon shrugged. "Oh well. Win some, lose some."

Janx started to speak again, angrily, but was interrupted. "Oven? Exactly _what_ have you done to my oven this time? I swear to _God_ I'll kill you if you've blown up another one."

"Ah." Janx turned around to face the cook, who was glowering at him. "Ren. Well, you see, what happened was –"

"You _did_, didn't you?"

"I may have," he said evasively, "been attempting to fry some bacon. I may have figured it would cook faster if the burners were turned up higher, so I may have decided to do that. And then I _may,_" he continued, finally getting to the point, "have accidentally dropped an open bottle of whiskey and –" Ren had been gaping incredulously as he went on, but she interrupted here.

"Honestly! Can't you do anything right?"

"Well, I _am_ widely regarded as the world's best sharpshooter –"

"Oh, you and your stupid rifle can go get stuffed! I mean something that takes some form of intelligence. Shooting things and blowing things up definitely doesn't."

"Wh– Wait a min– Oh, why the hell am I bothering?" he grumbled to himself as Ren was joined by Clara, who looked between Janx and the glare that Ren was giving him.

"Has he been peeking on you in the shower, too?" she asked Ren sympathetically.

"I solemnly swear never to peek on girls in the shower. However, I won't look away if they leave the door open."

Clara glared at him for this and walked over in front of him. "I _didn't_ leave the door open yesterday."

"I didn't solemnly swear anything yesterday, either," he pointed out, a point which earned him a rather hard punch in the ribs. Clara and Ren walked off without another word to him, discussing what idiots all the men on this ship were and how they should go off and form their own crew. Rubbing his right ribs and straightening himself out, he remembered what he had been doing before the unfortunate interruption as he grumbled about psychotic pirate-women. He had been about to kill his captain for robbing him of two million beli. Yes, that was it.

**XxxXxx****XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX**

"We're _not_ all going to die, okay? Now –"

"But –!"

"I'm being paranoid. Honestly, that's all it is. _Now_, can you hear _anything_ that sounds like it might possibly be an island?"

Still extremely suspicious of whether or not the ship might be blown up within the next few hours, Karimi nodded in response to the question. Before gaining the unfortunate ability to be able to hear everyone's thoughts that she came in contact with – or within a few miles of until she figured out how to control that – she had figured that, as captain of the ship, her father _had_ to have everything under control at all times. He had to know what was going to happen next, or have a good idea of what might happen next at the least. Now, he was trying very hard (and failing) to push the thought that they were all going to turn up dead if his string of bad luck didn't stop to the back of his mind so he could speak in a remotely coherent manner.

"All right. Good. That's good. Can you tell what direction it's in?"

Pouting in a defeated manner, Karimi pointed at both the port and starboard sides of the deck. "There's two," she added, before her father could ask how the island could be in two completely different directions. "The one that way's closer." She pointed to the starboard side. "But the one that way," she continued, pointing towards port, "seems better than the other one."

"Better…" he said slowly, "in what way…?"

"I don't _know_, the other island just isn't a nice place. They don't like people who aren't from their island."

"And the other one doesn't seem like that?" Karimi nodded. "Good."

"What's wrong with the ship?"

"How do you–? Never mind, mind listening and all that…" Lyon sighed. "Right. The… magnet in the Log Pose… uh… the ship – the Marines have someone who can turn things magnetic and they got the ship and…" He trailed off helplessly. The science of navigation had always evaded his understanding. That was what worried him more than anything – he had absolutely no handle on the situation if it had anything to do with navigation. "I really don't know," he said finally. "It has something to do with the Marines turning the ship into a magnet, and it means that no Log Pose will work on the ship."

"So I have to help the navigators?" Karimi asked.

"Do you think you can do that?" She nodded. It wasn't often that there was anything she could really help with on the ship, and it was quite obvious that she was the only person who _could_ help with this. Maybe she might be looked at as an actual member of the crew from now on. At any rate, her father seemed at least a little relieved. That was definitely good.

**XxxXxx****XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX**

A loud crunching noise sounded as the door to the ship cabin opened. Lyon ceased his pacing for a moment to look over and see what had disturbed his quiet, was unsurprised to see that it was Janx armed with a shotgun and eating a rather stale piece of French bread, and resumed his pacing. This was a bad situation, a very bad situation. Whatever island they landed on, they were going to have to fight, and fighting someone like Gaston was next to impossible for anyone without devil fruit powers, which meant that Lyon was probably the only member of his own crew that wasn't at risk of being killed.

"Stop pointing that damn thing, we've got a big enough list of problems without adding mutiny to it."

"I'm not being mutinous, I'm just killing you for stealing my money is all," Janx said. He took another bite of the stale French bread and gave it a reproachful look as he chewed.

"If Hizashi manages to come up with the money, it's yours. Problem solved." Janx shrugged in agreement and put the rifle back in its holster. "Now. I'm going to assume that you remember Gaston."

"The magnet bastard that gave Roger so much hell?" Lyon nodded. "Yep. And I've been meaning to ask, how the hell are we supposed to fight _that_? All our weapons are made of metal, that's not going to serve us very well."

"What we need," Lyon said, annoyed by the truth of this, "are weapons that aren't made of metal. Wood – wood would work. Wouldn't be nearly as sharp for the swords… probably wouldn't work for the guns at all… but at least it would be something."

"Maybe they'll invent such a thing some day," Janx said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "And it's not like that would help anyway, the bastard can give anything its own magnetic field. Just look at what he's done to the damn ship."

Lyon's eyes widened. "We have a problem."

"Another one? Oh, wonderful, what is this time? I'm eager to know."

"We now have a magnetic field. Our Log Pose isn't going to be the only one attempting to point to us."

Janx nearly dropped his French bread. "Holy shit, we're an island."

"And that means that if we don't get this reversed, they could get an Eternal Pose made that corresponds to this ship's particular magnetic field. Garp would always be able to find us."

"I actually did come in here to add another possible problem onto your list," Janx said. Lyon stopped pacing and looked over.

"Why?"

"Well, I was talking with the new compass in an attempt to figure out how the thought-listening process works with the whole navigation prospect. She's tuned in to one person on the next island since that apparently makes it easier to keep a steady heading or something and – this is where it gets problematic for you," Janx added, though _he_ looked terribly amused by it, "and she's just found out this person's name." Lyon raised his eyebrows. "Does the name 'Lyon D. Helena' ring any bells?"

Lyon blinked rapidly. "Wh… why?" he repeated, shaking his head.

"Because you, my friend, are the Grim Reaper's bitch." With an aggravated, laborious sigh in response to this, Lyon sat down heavily in the middle of the wooden floor. Janx took a seat at the desk, laughing. "What's the place like, anyway?"

"Let's just say it's not a really glamorous place. Not one mansion, not one fancy wrought iron gate, not one rich snob in a pinstriped suit. Sort of cut off from the rest of the world. Guess that explains why she can live there without anyone finding out about it," he said with a shrug. "I'm not sure what could possibly be funny about all of this," he added, glaring at Janx.

Janx shook his head, still laughing. "Nothing, really. Just déjà vu."

Lyon shrugged, silently agreeing. Getting chased by Garp in a ship that had been turned into a giant magnet and being used as Death's daily amusement again – déjà vu was definitely a good term for it.

**XxxXxx****XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX**

_My poor OCs. I do pity them for the situations I write them into. _


	4. Reunion

_Back with another installment for The Muse Bunny's story convention. Woot!_

_**Cape  
Umbrella**  
Knitting needle  
Walking stick  
**Chariot  
"Keep walking. Just keep walking."**  
"The local store ran out of patience, so I'm just going to keep nagging." (favorite one for the week.)  
"And you know that how?"  
**"No, that was not my foot."  
"I've hit rock bottom again."**_

_And there was the list of words._

_And now for something completely different.  
... no, I haven't been watching Monty Python on youtube again.  
... Much.  
_

_**Disclaimer**: No owns D: Wish I did, but I don't. In fact, my characters are considering disowning me, too. All the crap I put them through. Gotta feel bad for 'em.  
**Warnings**: ... Piracy? That should cover everything, I think.  
**YAAAAAAYquote**:_  
_Janx looked up at the blue sky, and then at Taran, who was still holding an umbrella over his head as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. "Yeah, you say professional navigator. I say he looks more like a completely nut."  
"There are a lot of those here," Lyon said.  
"Obviously. You're living proof."_

* * *

It had been some time since the town that sat upon the island had seen a ship of such size, not since the last time that Garp had been there with one of the Marine ships, and that had been years ago. Normally no one came upon the island, which someone did occasionally point out was odd, being that they _were_ an island of the Grand Line and it would only be normal for them to receive their own fair share of travelers. However, someone else would generally then see fit to point out that only few kind visitors was better than an overabundance of bloodthirsty pirates. Usually this someone else was Lyon D. Helena, and whoever it was would agree with her and shrug off their opinions, since she was a fairly respected member of the little town of Sombei, had been living there for quite some time, and knew the way of life there much better than the youngsters who always saw fit to question it.

"So then they _don't_ like pirates?" Hizashi asked wearily.

Karimi – who had recently pinned a red towel to the shoulders of her shirt with clothespins, dubbed it her cape, and dubbed herself the superhero "Compass Girl," – shrugged in response from her perch on the railing around the quarterdeck. "They don't mind them. I think she just tells them that so they don't ask questions about it much."

"Why?"

Karimi pursed her lips in thought. "There's a 'lock' on the island that no one's supposed to know 'bout."

Hizashi looked at the little island that the ship had just pulled up to. "A lock, you say? What sort of a lock?"

"It keeps Log Poses from pointing at it. No one can know 'bout it 'cause the Marines say so… or one of them?" Her head tilted to the side and she seemed even further in thought. She wasn't getting very much more information than that. This Lyon D. Helena seemed to have a lock of her own on all of this, didn't like thinking about it very much. All she could get were the names Garp and Gaston. She had heard her dad mention Garp before, and knew that Garp was chasing them because Garp thought Lyon was his son and something needed to be done about him being a pirate, but Lyon himself seemed to be under the impression that he didn't have a dad. That seemed unlikely, and Karimi was sure that her dad might have a lock on that part of his memories.

She switched her focus around on the island until she came across an old man who seemed to think his name was Harold. Galandi Harold, specifically. Harold remembered a time when ships did come all the time, but it they had stopped coming after that woman got here, and it probably had something to do with the government, if he was thinking right. Of course, he didn't seem to like the government much at all, so he could have just been blaming it on them to have something to blame on them. He also held the names Gaston and Garp in close relation to this thought.

"I think only a couple Marines put the lock on it and they might not a' told the government 'bout it."

"Mmm-hmm." Karimi looked over and saw her father's first mate, who was leaning back against the railing of the quarterdeck next to where she was sitting. "Any names on them?" He was only there to avoid getting roped into helping with the docking, as Karimi could tell, but there was an actual curiosity beneath the excuse.

"That Garp guy, the one that's chasin' us, and someone named 'Gaston.'" He laughed. "You already knew that," Karimi said, crossing her arms. She quickly put them back down to grip the railing as she threatened to lose balance and fall below onto the main deck.

"Mostly," Janx said with a shrug. "Just double-checking."

"_You're_ just trying to get out of doing any extra work," she accused, again crossing her arms and this time maintaining her balance.

"And you know that how?" he asked suspiciously, eyebrows raised. Karimi raised her eyebrows as well. "Oh, right, mind reading… or hearing… something like that. Oh well. Yes, I'm getting out of doing extra work because I do more than my fair share around here and I honestly am curious to know more about this place before I get roped into going on an expedition for supplies."

"I thought Daddy wanted to keep everyone on the ship?"

"Well, your _daddy_ has noticed that we're almost out of rum. The shipwright also needs wood since he's noticed a minor leak down below, and I'm supposed to be buying a new oven, apparently."

Karimi blinked. "You don't have any money."

Janx shrugged. "I'm still being expected to get one somehow, I don't know. Anyway, as our new radar system –"

"Compass."

"Our new compass," he agreed, "you'll have to come with us, since your dad would like to avoid the woman whose thoughts you've tapped into at all costs."

"But she wanted to see him," Karimi said indignantly. "She heard about the ship and she knew and she –"

"I hate to depict your dad as a bad guy, but he really doesn't seem to give a damn," Janx said. "Now, if you feel like tricking him into seeing her, be my guest. Could end up being pretty funny, if you ask me. You just don't want to mention to him that you've got any plans to, of course, otherwise he might just leave you on the ship. I think he probably needs to see her. I'm not really a sentimentalist, but I bet he'd regret it if he left without stopping to say hello, don't you?"

Karimi shrugged. She didn't like tricking her father, even if it was for his own good. She knew that he and Janx often had tendencies to make jokes at each other's expenses – they were a lot like best friends, a lot like enemies, and even more like brothers, so that was only natural. She just didn't want to get roped into helping out with one of these jokes, especially not in something her father was so set against.

"Come on, don't you think it's a little unfair, what he's trying to do?" Karimi shrugged again. "All right," Janx said airily. "If you don't think it's important. You seemed awfully opinionated about it a minute ago. You just decide on your own. Regardless, I've been sent to retrieve you, so." He stood back up, and a moment later, Karimi yelped in surprise when she was being lifted off of the railing of the quarterdeck and set down on its floor.

"I could've done that!" she said crossly. Even though she probably couldn't have, it was just the principle of the thing.

"Of course you could have," Janx agreed in a voice that clearly said he didn't agree at all. "Now come on, best not to waste time."

Karimi almost pointed out that _he_ had been wasting time only a moment ago, but decided not to. Despite Janx's leisurely pace, she had a feeling that her father was in quite a rush to get this trip into town done with. He didn't like the idea of being here one little bit, and he wanted to get out as soon as he had his ship returned to normal.

Her assumption couldn't have been more right, as both she and Janx discovered when the latter of the two was told off by his very furious captain for slacking off, much to the amusement of Karimi and the three other crewmembers who apparently needed something in town – Clara, Ren, and the ship's only shipwright Lucas. Janx distracted Lyon by pointing out something that had just distracted him; an odd old man not far off from the docks supporting himself partially with a walking stick and carrying an open umbrella, despite the sun beaming down from a perfectly blue sky. Lyon observed this oddity for a moment.

"Huh. Old Taran's still alive, then."

"Yeah, but the umbrella –"

"It's probably going to rain soon. He used to be a professional navigator, he's good at predicting weather patterns. And keep your voice down while we're walking past, I don't want anyone recognizing me," he added.

Janx looked up at the blue sky, and then at Taran, who was still holding an umbrella over his head as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. "Yeah, you say professional navigator. I say he looks more like a completely nut."

"There are a lot of those here," Lyon said.

"Obviously. You're living proof."

Annoyed, Lyon attempted to stamp the insulter's foot with the heel of his boot, but missed by a couple of inches and nearly tripped on a mud puddle. He flinched slightly without looking down. "That wasn't your foot, was it? I had been planning for your foot to be there when I did that."

"No, that was _not _my foot." Janx shook his head. "This only further proves my point. You're such a lunatic you can't even tell the difference between a foot and mud."

At this point, the old man had noticed them, but Karimi was the only one who had taken notice of this, since her father and Janx were now arguing again. Ren had rolled her eyes at the two of them and decided to go off and look for food supplies on her own after a minute of this, Clara had gone with her since she was only there to avoid the boring task of helping guard the ship, and Lucas had followed to go look for somewhere that might sell planks and nails to repair the ship with. Karimi looked between the old man – who was now thinking that he quite recognized the pirate in the tricorne hat – her father, and Janx, and decided it would probably be a good idea to say something.

"Daddy – didn't you want to keep away from people here?" This stalled the argument just before Janx could point out that he was the one in this predicament who had a gun, a point which could win any argument without question, in his opinion. "The old guy thinks he knows you."

He shot a glance over his shoulder at the old man, who had paused his walking. Just before old Taran could say anything, the two pirates – and he was sure he knew who the one in the tricorne hat was now – and the kid were off. That only supported his suspicion – under the terms by which Lyon had left over a decade ago, he was dead scared to be back. It wasn't a wonder, either. That Helena could be a right demon when she was angry about something, and she had been pretty upset with the boy for eleven years running.

Around the next corner and onto a new road, the trio had slowed back down to just a little bit faster than normal walking pace, with Lyon now mumbling to himself in a paranoid manner, "Keep walking. Just keep _walking_."

Karimi was still listening for the woman her father didn't want to see, and she was pretty sure the woman was his mother or at least someone he had stayed with growing up. Lyon D. Helena now knew for a fact that he was there and was looking for him – news really _did_ travel fast in small towns. Apparently he had stolen a few of her things before leaving, apparently he hadn't come back for eleven years, and apparently this made her a bit angry.

She wasn't that far off at all, and Karimi wasn't going to tell her father this. It _was_ rather rude that he hadn't come back to see his own mother in eleven years, and maybe Janx was right that he'd feel guilty if they didn't talk.

For now, Karimi tuned out all but the faint stream of thoughts she was hearing from Helena and kept her eyes peeled around her. It wasn't nearly as interesting as she was sure Jaya had been, but it was quieter, which was probably for the better. An old wooden chariot, probably pulled by horses or some other large animal, sat outside of one shop off to her left. Off to the right, an old woman was brandishing a knitting needle at a young boy who had apparently just stolen something from one of the vendors' stands, scolding him. Behind them was someone who had just found who she was looking for and was just about to make this known.

When the hand landed on Lyon's shoulder, it didn't help the paranoia he had been feeling at all. In fact, it went so far as to give him a jolt that caused him to trip over his own feet, lose his balance, and promptly fall over face forward. Karimi felt a bit guilty for finding this amusing and therefore didn't laugh. Janx didn't feel guilty at all and was sniggering quite a bit as the woman walked around and kneeled down in front of Lyon. He was just sitting up and putting his hat back on. He grimaced when he saw her and pulled the front brim down over his eyes.

"I bet you thought you were going to get what you needed and go without saying a word to me, didn't you?" He inclined his head so he would have been staring at his feet if his hat wasn't covering his eyes. "Ungrateful brat," Lyon D. Helena said with a sigh, though it sounded more like some strange endearment than a reprimand. "Don't think I'm not mad," she added, her voice sterner now. "Stealing my guitar and my rum and taking off in _my_ boat without a word about it before, you –"

"Come on, Mom…" He lifted his hat up, crossing his arms. "We haven't seen each other in eleven years; shouldn't we save the nagging for after the happy family reunion?"

She stood back up and crossed her arms. "The local store ran out of patience, so I'm just going to keep nagging. And some happy family reunion it'll be when your father gets here –"

"Not my _father_…" Lyon grumbled, also standing back up.

"Well, regardless of what you see him as, he's looking to have _someone_ executed. And not necessarily you," she added. Lyon paused brushing the dust from the road off of himself at this. "He's going to make a negotiation, since he's got permission to issue a Buster Call. You. Me. Or neither of us, and the entire island in our place."

Lyon gaped for a moment at this. He then shook his head and swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling painfully dry.

"I've hit rock bottom again."

* * *

_OOH! Plot development. Yay? I think so. Plot development is a good thing. Killing your characters isn't, but eh. I told you they're trying to disown me. See why?_


	5. Arrival

_OMG I FINISHED IT :O_

_I just wrote all but the first three and a half paragraphs of this tonight alone. And it's the longest chapter yet, at 2,496 words :D It was 2,499, but I cut it down a bit, added a few things, and it ended up three words less. Dunno how. As we know, I can't exceed 2,500 for the story convention, so this was **uber** close. I cut it short just before a huge fight breaks out (yay for cliffies!), but there's going to be a little something more before the huge fight. What? I'm not tellin'. Guess. _

_:D_

_My word/phrase list for the week:  
-**Perfume bottle**  
-Bunny  
**-Scroll (as in the rolled up piece of paper, like a map scroll, which I used :D yay piracy and all its conveniences!)  
-Dressing table**  
-Feather (and you'll find out why the bunny has feathers, just not in this chapter. I promise. It has to do with the old man with the dressing table.)  
-"Ow. Ow! OW! I've got a cramp." (my most funnest one for the week, because of the incredible random way in which I used it :D)  
**-"You make me want to hurl."  
-"Why is that everytime you're around, I get the feeling that doom is going to befall us?"**  
-"I'm on a roll today."  
**-"There's a funny smell coming out of your room."**_

_And there it is :)_

_Ah, and many thanks to the reviewer on the last chapter for the review :D This story sort of doesn't have very many._

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own One Piece. And if my characters haven't disowned me yet, then they will have by the next chapter, especially Lyon. Oh the things I'm planning.  
**Warnings**: ... Piracy? That should cover everything, I think. As in, everything ever.  
**ZOMGQUOTIFYNESS!**:  
There was a muffled _flump_ from nearby, followed by a voice. "Ow. Ow! OW! I've got a cramp." And with that, Janx broke his way to the front of the crowd of pirates, limping slightly. Everyone was looking at him incredulously. "Give me a break, I just ran the length of the town to get here and then fell out of that tree over there." He pointed to said tree. "I may," he added evasively, "have been running from an angry mob of workers from an appliance store I just tried to steal an oven from at the time, but that's hardly the point, I think."_

* * *

Walking back to the ship, Clara examined a small perfume bottle that was the makeshift container for a bluish translucent liquid that was quite obviously the sort of sedatives that skilled doctors used in surgeries. The old man had loads of them all set up on a dressing table, selling each one for a very high price, so she had nicked one while he was haggling with someone else to examine it more closely. Only professionals could get a hold of such things, so she found this rather odd.

She tripped on something in the road and nearly fell, losing her grip on the bottle. It fell to the ground and shattered. It was no huge loss – she hadn't exactly paid for it, after all. Looking around to see what she had tripped on, she spotted what looked like a small bunny hopping away from her. It was questionable, since bunnies normally didn't have that many feathers – or even one single feather, for that matter – but that was definitely what it appeared to be. She shook her head and continued toward the ship, which was only a few yards away.

The town was boring, and the ship seemed like it might hold at least a bit more entertainment. Ren was still off hunting down foods that didn't need to be cooked by means of an oven, but everyone else was presumably back by now. Evening had already come with no warning, and night would be upon the town soon, and – and with this observation, Clara stopped in her tracks, eyes widening – the Marine ship that was moving through the water would also be upon the town very soon.

* * *

When Lyon boarded his ship again, he had been met immediately by his daughter, who saw fit to tell him, "There's a funny smell coming out of your room." After tossing the source of this smell off the ship – which turned out, repulsively enough, to be a dead rat that had just begun decaying – he headed back into his cabin. Now he was sitting at his desk, contemplating over a bottle of rum how all of this had managed to work out, and Karimi was sitting on the floor unrolling a map scroll and attempting to decipher how in the world maps worked. It had been an hour since he returned, and the only crew left on the island were Janx – who had gone _back_ out to look for an affordable oven (or steal an expensive one, if he could manage it) – and probably Ren and Clara. He wasn't bothering to keep tabs on everyone at every moment; he had stopped that after the crew had reached fifty.

Lyon glanced back over his shoulder after a moment of realizing that all of the paper rustling had ceased, and then looked back for a bit longer. Karimi was being extremely silent – which was strange in and of itself – and staring back over her shoulder at the back of the cabin, which also happened to be towards the back of the ship itself. There was a wooden wall separating any view there might have been of the water of the sea behind them, but she was still staring back, quite intent on whatever it was she was seeing.

Or hearing, he reminded himself.

"Daddy," she said quietly, not looking around for the moment, "I think the Marine people are almost here."

This gave him a slight jolt – in fact, he nearly fell out of his chair. If asked, he would have claimed that this had absolutely nothing to do with the rum and was solely in surprise at the speed at which the Marine ship must have travelled in order to get here that quickly, a claim that was questionable at best. Lyon regained his balance after a moment of reeling.

"Are you sure?" She looked back at him and nodded, eyes wide and fearful, but remained silent. He stood and started for the door. "All right. You stay here and –" He paused. "On second thought, come with me, there's every chance he could try to fire on the ship, and you don't need to be on it if that happens."

Her eyes swiveled thoughtfully around for a moment, and then she said, "He'd thinking about it," she agreed. "He doesn't know yet and he's almost here, though."

That was Garp. Spur of the moment thinker. If he did decide to fire upon the ship, then there wouldn't be a moment between that decision and the barrage of cannonballs he would send flying at them. Lyon sighed. "I'm on a roll today…" he mumbled. He then added, "Come on, we need to get off the ship."

She followed him out onto the quarterdeck. He paused outside the door to lean over the ship's railing and look around the cabin for the marine ship – and surely enough, it was there, nearly to the harbor. He then hurried over to the edge of the quarterdeck and spoke up loudly enough for everyone onboard to hear (or so he hoped).

"Everyone. Hey! _Hello?_" No one paid a bit of attention. He rolled his eyes a bit, and then said, quite a bit more loudly, "Look, would you all shut the hell up for a moment?" That got them quiet. The crew all looked around at him, many of them looking slightly alarmed. "Good. Although the situation we're currently in isn't particularly good. Everyone on the lower deck, I'll need you off the ship. Everyone up here will be staying and preparing for combat if it's necessary. The Marines are here, and there's a chance they could fire on the ship, so there needs to be someone on board in such a case. There's an equal chance that they won't, so it will be required that there are enough of us off of the ship to fight if that also becomes necessary. I'll be off the ship, so commanding here will be –"

"Garp's nearly –!" Clara, who had just boarded the ship at this point to warn everyone about her findings, looked around and noticed that everyone seemed quite a bit more organized than usual. "Oh, you've noticed."

"So commanding here will be Clara." This was mostly for the sake of convenience – she was the only doctor onboard the ship at the moment, so her being in direct combat in this sort of scenario probably wasn't a good idea. "You'll only fire on the Marine ship if it fires first. Garp is looking to compromise and I'm going to attempt to reason with him. If that doesn't work, then everyone will probably end up fighting. As long as Garp isn't on the ship for any combat – which we will definitely try to prevent – then this ship and the Marines' ship should be on equal footing. On the ground, the main goal will be to take out as many marines as possible, only if compromise doesn't prove to be an option."

"Why the hell aren't we just fighting him straight off?" Clara asked, sounding quite full of protest. "We should be trying to stop them from reaching the island!"

"Because, at the moment, Garp has the authority to issue a Buster Call on this island. For anyone who _doesn't_ know what that means," he said loudly over the sudden surge of gasping and chattering coming from those who obviously did know, "it means that he currently has the authority to call in five vice admirals and a fleet of ten marine ships to the island and blow it to pieces, as well as anything and anyone on or around it at the time. Since Garp himself is already a vice-admiral, I'm not sure if that means he would just be calling in four others or actually calling in another five. I've never been involved in a Buster Call, which is obvious because I'm still alive. That is why we're not just going to attempt anything but compromise initially. Any more questions?" There were still murmurs amongst the crew, obviously worried ones, but no one else spoke up. "Good," he said. "Then everyone, get to your stations."

As Lyon headed down to the main deck to depart the ship, tailed closely by Karimi who was trying quite hard not to get lost amidst all the clambering, Clara stopped him, apparently still full of protest and question and looking to hold up the whole situation.

"We need to fight him before he has the chance to issue it, you know what it means if he get the chance to!" she was saying, following him.

"I'd prefer that no one dies here," Lyon said, "and he's looking to compromise. If he's reasonable about it, then there won't be any fighting, and no one will have to get hurt here. From what I've heard, he's willing to be… at least remotely reasonable."

"And what's that supposed to mean? Are you honestly planning on turning yourself in?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Like it could possibly be that simple."

"Then what –?"

"Why would he have been given permission to use a Buster Call on this island if he wasn't absolutely certain that I was going to be here in the first place?" he asked, stopping and turning around. Clara and Karimi also both halted. "Unless there was someone seen as a danger here, who was _definitely_ here, he wouldn't have permission to do something like that. I've only got the third highest bounty in the world right now. There are still two people above me."

"Two? I thought that Revolutionary Army leader was the only –"

"No, Dragon would be the second highest, and I believe he's off in North Blue somewhere. There's one person here he's willing to take in my place, one person who happens to have a much higher bounty than anyone else currently does, but no one knows about this person because they've been out of piracy for a while and living a fairly peaceful life _on this island_. It's a complicated situation with a very easy solution that I happen to be completely against but am being forced into. So." He pointed up towards the quarterdeck, where the crew that was to attack Garp's ship – if necessary – was currently assembled.

"But–"

"Go. That's an order. No attacking them unless they attack first, I'd rather not complicate this situation any more than I have to."

Clara looked out at the crew gathered in front of the ship docks, at Lyon, shook her head and resignedly walked back towards the quarterdeck. If the things she had heard about Garp were correct – the crew had been fortunate enough to never have to come face to face with him before – then he really wasn't the type of person to compromise anything. He generally took a more head-on approach to things; either he got what he wanted or no one was going to be happy. Oddly enough, Lyon was generally the same in how he went about things, which made her wonder whether this whole compromise thing was really such a good idea.

* * *

"Why is that everytime you're around, I get the feeling that doom is going to befall us?"

Lyon asked this to no one in particular as he watched the Marine ship dock. Karimi had taken to hiding behind his legs and only peeking out from behind them to see what was going on occasionally. Now she saw a group of Marines getting off the ship. The last of them to leave was Garp himself, and there were still quite a few onboard – prepared to attack her father's ship if necessary. What if everyone did end up fighting? She shuddered slightly at the thought. She knew all about this compromise idea, as it was all her father had been thinking about since he talked to his mother earlier. It was her idea that she should turn herself in, because she was older, and he had a life left to live and – she had put particular emphasis on this point – a child to raise. Karimi had a feeling that her father would have gladly turned himself in if it wasn't for her, that she was the only reason that the situation was nearly as complicated as it was.

She glanced around again and saw the Marines stop a few feet away. She hid again immediately, before any of them had a chance to see her. Garp was standing in front of them, and the man who had made their ship into a giant magnet – Gaston – was close by. None of them had any weapons drawn. She breathed an inward sigh of relief for this.

Garp was the first to break the silence, and he spoke in an amiable tone that really rather surprised Karimi.

"Been a long time, hasn't it, son?" Karimi glanced around again. Her eyes widened and she hid herself again – Gaston had spotted her that time.

"I'm not your son," Lyon said, taking a lot of effort to speak calmly. "I heard you were looking to compromise."

Garp laughed, then said, just as amiably, "You make me want to hurl. You know that? Disrespectful little brat. You should be nicer. I've got the authority to have this entire island destroyed if you don't do what I ask you to. See?"

"Put that away. You were the one who wanted to compromise." Karimi looked around again and saw Garp had something that looked like a small, gold Den Den Mushi with a button on it. That was what he could use to issue the Buster Call. She hid again.

"And you already know the conditions. If you try to fight, then this entire island –"

A sudden, extremely loud bang drowned out what he was saying and, just as suddenly as this had occurred, the Golden Den Den Mushi was gone from his hand. The marine who had been standing behind where he was holding it up also suddenly fell over, bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound to his chest. After a moment examining the scene, Karimi noticed a few golden specks lying on the ground beside Garp.

There was a muffled _flump_ from nearby, followed by a voice. "Ow. Ow! OW! I've got a cramp." And with that, Janx broke his way to the front of the crowd of pirates, limping slightly. Everyone was looking at him incredulously. "Give me a break, I just ran the length of the town to get here and then fell out of that tree over there." He pointed to said tree. "I may," he added evasively, "have been running from an angry mob of workers from an appliance store I just tried to steal an oven from at the time, but that's hardly the point, I think."

Lyon's hand came to his face and he shook his head. Yes, the Buster Call might have been eliminated, which was a good thing, but now they would definitely be fighting.

* * *

_Oh noes, gigantic fight! Can I handle it? Methinks yes. I'm usually pretty okay with fight scenes.  
_

_Anyway. Yeah. Guesses on what's going to happen before the fight that might make my characters attempt to be legally emancipated from me? C'mon, go ahead. You know you want to.  
_


	6. New Compromise

_I planned out the entire story yesterday :D Chapter by chapter and everything. Which means there is absolutely no doubt that I will be able to finish this._

_And I quite like the ending I've got written for it._

_Word/phrase list:_

_**Thesaurus  
Hookah  
Rocking Chair  
Nylon sheets  
Chocolate  
**"Can I doodle on your face? I'm all out of paper."  
"Don't be so daft. Of course she doesn't wear skirts."  
"I love drunks. They're so funny."  
"Don't get lost!"  
"What do I have to do to get a massage around here?!"_

_Oh, and in this chapter, you get to find out the origin of the feathery rabbit from the last chapter. :D It's not an important detail or anything, but still. :D_

_**Disclaimer**: No owns. None of it. Yes, my characters disowned me. It makes me sad :(  
**Warnings**: Piracy. Fighting. Decapitation - yes, you heard me right, but the rating isn't changing because it doesn't really go into graphic detail or anything. Ah, and alcohol-bombs (you are inclined to assume that said alcohol is 100-proof, because otherwise it wouldn't work at all). Yay explosives! :D  
**OMGWTFBBQuoteXD**:_  
_"You said you were bored," Janx said, taking the bottle back now and jerking its top off. He flipped the top over his shoulder. "How would you like to learn how to make explosives from everyday objects?"_

_Karimi thought that sounded quite interesting, and reflected this out loud by saying, "Awesome!"_

* * *

Janx stared around at the silent crowd with a raised eyebrow, and they all stared back. In a moment, Karimi could tell, he would prove a theory that she had heard from her father before: in very serious moments when all attention lay on Janx, he would always, without fail, do or say something completely arbitrary and generally end up making his predicament worse.

Indeed, he took this moment to sit down heavily on the ground and say, "You know, you'd think the guy who just blew up the dangerous-looking golden snail would be shown a bit more appreciation. What do I have to do to get a massage around here?! I mean –"

"Yes, thank you, now be quiet," Lyon interrupted, then said to Garp, "Now that _that_ distraction is out of the way, can we get to negotiations?"

Garp, however, wasn't paying attention. Gaston had moved forward and was speaking to him very quickly and quietly. Lyon watched them suspiciously, eyebrow raised. Gaston, though he wasn't the first mate on Garp's ship, was generally the brains behind all of the plans. Anything he came up with wouldn't be as simple as blowing up an island; it would quite possibly be much worse.

Garp laughed as they finished talking and the other man stood back again, looking quite pleased with whatever plan it was he had come up with. It wasn't a look that bode well at all for Lyon.

"All right, let's negotiate, then," Garp said, still grinning at whatever it was he had found funny a moment ago. "That was the only Golden Den Den Mushi I had, and it's been destroyed. That leaves you with two options, and both involve someone dying. I _could_ give you a third option, and everyone would be able to get out alive, no harm done. So?"

"I'm listening." After the next two words Garp spoke, however, he wouldn't be listening much at all – more silently seething until the man shut his mouth again so Lyon could tell him _exactly_ what he thought about the idea.

"Your kid," he said. "Living on a pirate ship is hardly stable enough for a girl that young. She'll be lucky to live past the age of ten if she stays. I wouldn't want something bad to happen to my own granddaughter."

"She's not any relation to you," Lyon said coldly, "and neither am I."

"Your brother has a kid too, now. Over in East Blue. I'm taking care of him. He wasn't too bold to accept a little help. A kid needs a stable life, and living on a ship with a band of criminals isn't really that stable, is it?"

"You," said Lyon, drawing his sword, "can go to hell, old man."

* * *

The room was a fairly simple accommodation; relaxing enough, definitely homey quite homey, with off-white walls and wood floors. There was a bed with a couple nightstands on either side of it – atop one sat an unwrapped bar of chocolate – a small bookshelf with a standard thesaurus, dictionary, cook book, and a few fictional novels spread about; and a dresser with a mirror sitting on top of it. There wasn't much else to be seen in the room.

Right now, the owner of the house this small bedroom could be found in was stripping the nylon sheets off of the bed to be washed. She was middle-aged with the relaxed appearance of a mother whose children were gone off on their own, leaving her with quite a bit less stress and quite a bit more peace and quiet. Even so, many noticed a glint in her eyes that was normally only associated with one type of person. There were rumors in the town about her and a few others that had shown up at around the same time. There was that strange doctor, Milo, who passed time attempting to genetically alter animals for the sake of science; the old man called Taran who could predict weather with such accuracy that it stunned everyone; there were a few others, all just as odd as the last. Then, of course, there was Lyon D. Helena.

Kind, polite, friendly, motherly, _normal_ Helena – the island was so cut off from the rest of the world that no one knew the full truth, but they always suspected her. They all saw it as a façade, but accepted her nonetheless. Had she ever been a pirate, she had put it behind her, married a respectable man, and had two troublesome children who left before they even reached adulthood. Many even felt sorry for her on this account, though she always said that it was a relief to finally have the house to herself most of the time. This couldn't have been more true; between Dragon and his constant ramblings about corruption in the government, and Lyon – who despised his given name so much that he demanded even his mother call him by his chosen surname – and his incessant need to find some sort of trouble to get into, she had rarely gotten a moment of rest. They left, and she did.

Now it was all crashing down.

If all went according to plan, she would very soon be caught, taken to the headquarters of the World Government, and executed, her peaceful days of hiding over. If not, it would be the younger of her two sons – while both of them could be frustrating, death was the absolute last thing she would have ever wished on them. If it all went terribly wrong, then everyone on and around the island would be killed. It was absolute madness.

A knock on the front door interrupted her thoughts. She dropped the sheets back onto the bed for the moment and headed down a short hallway into the living room. She opened the front door, saw no one, and looked around a bit. After a moment, she spotted the knocker – an old, slightly crazed-looking old man sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch and smoking a hookah pipe. She walked onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

"Evening, captain. Have you by any chance seen my rabbit anywhere lately?"

"How many times have I got to tell you to stop calling me that, Milo?" Milo shrugged noncommittally, and Helena rolled her eyes. "You mean the rabbit you've been trying to turn into a chicken?"

"Yes."

"How's that going?"

"Would be going rather better if I knew where he was," he said, frowning. "Hard for a doctor to do any work when his patients keep escaping." He took a drag on his pipe and Helena found herself wondering – not for the first time – exactly what was in it. "I thought you might like to know that your husband has arrived, and it appears his Marines and your son's pirates are involved in a rather large fight at the docks."

"_What?_"

"I said, I thought you might like to –"

"I heard you the first time! – God, that boy has absolutely _no_ sense! I told him not to lose his temper, he's going to get the entire island blown to bits!"

"Not going to get your gun first?" Milo asked as she strode off the porch.

"I won't be needing it," she said grimly.

* * *

"Can I doodle on your face? I'm all out of paper."

Janx, who had been assigned sniper duty in the huge fight and stationed behind a tree with a five-year-old as his lookout, looked down at said five-year-old incredulously to see that she was holding a permanent marker. As if his situation wasn't already bleak enough.

"Wh – no – you didn't have any paper to begin with!" She grinned. "And where did you get that?"

"It was on the ground."

"Well put it back and keep lookout like you're supposed to."

She dropped the marker and pursed her lips in annoyance. "You're no fun. And I'm bored with being the lookout. I liked being a compass better. And there's one trying to sneak up behind you." He turned quickly and pointed his shotgun at a very shocked looking Marine, who seemed to be trying to come up with a way to explain himself, but didn't get out a word before he was shot in the head. Karimi was very glad she hadn't turned around and watched all of this.

"Thanks for that." She continued glaring at him with her lips pursed, looking particularly disagreeable. "I'll take that as a 'you're welcome.' Anyone else planning on attacking over here at the moment?" She shook her head no. "Good." He looked out from behind the tree again to where the main fighting was, and then off to the side a bit. There appeared to be a small group of Marines strategizing about something. He grinned and, for the moment, put his gun back in the holster strapped across his back. He reached instead for a pistol holster at his belt, which had been doctored to hold glass bottles instead. Most assumed this was just so he would always have whiskey on hand – Karimi was one of those that had previously believed this, but not so much now.

"You've lived on a pirate ship for five years, I assume you know what this is," he said, shaking the bottle back and forth. She nodded – it was quite obviously a bottle of whiskey. "Good. Now hold onto it for a moment."

She took the bottle in both hands and looked down at it, then up at Janx, who was now proceeding to tear the sleeves off of his shirt and twist them together. "You said you were bored," he said, taking the bottle back now and jerking its top off. He flipped the top over his shoulder. "How would you like to learn how to make explosives from everyday objects?"

Karimi thought that sounded quite interesting, and reflected this out loud by saying, "Awesome!"

"Good. Because that's what you're about to learn. You can look at it," he said, tipping the bottle over the twisted rags that had been his shirt sleeves, and then handing the bottle back to Karimi, "as a giant candle that is capable of exploding." She sniffed the opening of the bottle, then resolved to hold it as far away from her nose as possible. Janx was now wringing out the whiskey-soaked rag. He held it up with one hand and took the bottle back with the other.

"This," he said, "is the wick." He looked at the bottle for a moment, decided that wasting all of it would be nothing short of blasphemy, and took a quick swig of it before continuing. "This," he continued, holding up the bottle, "is the candle."

He stuffed the rag into the bottle, so the top of the rag was hanging out from the top. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a book of matches, then handed the bottle back to Karimi. He lit one match, put the rest of them back in his pocket, and took the bottle again. He nodded to the group of marines.

"It won't be a huge explosion," he said, "but it should be plenty to scatter them. You fill the bottle with gasoline for bigger explosions. Now, watch," he said, holding the match to the rag – it caught fire immediately, "and learn." He aimed for the group of marines, then threw it, aiming for the ground they were standing on so the glass would shatter. The glass did indeed shatter, and the fire from the rag ignited the alcohol, all that was spread on the ground and that had gone into the air on the impact. It landed amongst the Marines and ignited there – they scattered, some of them firing guns and yelling, others just running as fast as they could, shocked and surprised and confused as to what in the world had just happened.

Karimi giggled at this a bit. "I love drunks. They're so funny."

"And a minute ago I was no f–"

He saw something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly reached back for his gun and pointed it at the source of the movement – then gawked at it a bit.

For some reason, in some inexplicable way, there was a Marine standing behind Karimi whose head had just fallen off.

Karimi had taken her attention off of the fighting for only a moment and hadn't heard him sneaking behind her. When she turned around and saw the headless figure fall over backwards, she stumbled back, herself. She looked down, saw the man's head, and stumbled back some more, then finally decided that now would be a good time to run. Janx was too busy being shocked to notice for a few seconds, but he did after a moment. He thought to yell at her to get back over here, but then decided this would be a bad idea as he himself was of half a mind to run – it simply wasn't _normal_ for people's heads to just roll off of their shoulders. He decided he should say something, and called after her, "Ah– um– Don't get lost!" That worked fine.

Karimi wasn't bound to get lost, as she didn't get more than fifty feet before she ran into someone's legs. She stumbled backwards and fell over this time, looking up fearfully. Smiling, Helena crouched down in front of her granddaughter and helped her up. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I just didn't think your dad would be very happy if the Marines got hold of you." She held a hand out to the side, and a long, thin, silvery piece of string or wire seemed to retract into her palm, then disappear entirely.

"Devil fruit?" Karimi said, more to herself.

Helena smiled, but didn't elaborate. "You know, I might have to have a word with your dad about how he's dressing you," she said, observing Karimi's rather baggy, rather dirty clothes. "Haven't you got any proper dresses or skirts?"

"Don't be so daft. Of course she doesn't wear skirts."

Karimi and Helena both looked over at the source of the voice. Karimi was the first to react by yelling, "Daddy!" and tackling his legs.

Helena stood up and gave her son a stern look. "Just as smart mouthed as ever, aren't you? And why in God's name are you _fighting_?" she demanded. "If he issues a Buster Call –"

"Not an option for him anymore. The Den Den Mushi was destroyed."

"Why?" she repeated.

Lyon glanced down at Karimi, and then explained quickly the replacement compromise that Garp had made for the Buster. His eyes were darting back to the fight by the docks all the while. Helena crossed her arms when he finished.

"And you lost your temper," she concluded.

"Yes, but he –"

"You still had other options."

"But then…" He trailed off and sighed resignedly, wondering why exactly parents always had to be right.

* * *

_And now I'm all eager to write the next chapter and stuff. Rrrg. _


	7. The Logic of Drunken Pirates

_Shorter chapter than usual, but I got everything into it that I needed to and covered what I had planned to cover. It's still over 2,000 words, it's just not as close to 2,500 as it can possibly be this time (as the last couple chapters have been)._

_Word list:_

_**Potpourri  
Rocket  
Stained glass  
Flute  
Anthology  
**"I'm like a new toy; I lose my novelty very quickly."  
"I'm really not a cheapskate. I just don't like sharing."  
"I'm a moody person. Look at me switch from joy to misery."  
"Why is it that I can never find coffee in this place?"  
"You have about five seconds to impress me."_

_Stuffs:_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own._

_**Warnings:** All the usual stuff, little swearing, alcohol, all that._

_**Quotifier Thingadoodle:**_  
"You see, the point I'm trying to make here," he said, when the confused look on Lyon's face suggested that he might attempt to protest again, "is that planning things out never did drunk people any good, because their plans are usually just as inebriated as they are. Being that the majority of pirates are usually against the idea of sobriety, it's also a bad idea for them to make plans, or to think about the situation they're in, because then they end up being paranoid. You see?"

Lyon blinked. "Not really."

_By the way, sorry if the A/N seems rather rushed (though I doubt many people read them anyway). I've got band practice in an hour (I joined band and I get to play guitar as an extracurricular activity =D) and I need to start getting ready right about now, so I'm doing this all rather quickly._

* * *

As suddenly as the fighting had been started by Lyon, it was ended by Helena. As he gaped at the scene, Lyon wondered how in the world he had ever been brave enough to cross that woman when he was young. He had surely never been on the receiving end of her devil fruit power—he would probably be a few limbs short had he ever been. Now, half of Garp's men were dead, and she had a wire wrapped round Gaston's neck as she negotiated with Garp in a calm, motherly voice. If anything, that only made things more disturbing.

"We'll agree to your terms as soon as you let me go, you _bitch_," Gaston shot at Helena, glancing over his shoulder at her. A warm smile crossed her features that didn't quite reach her cold eyes.

"And I'll let you go as soon as you both agree to my terms," she said pleasantly. "You won't lay a hand on my son or any of his crew, and especially not his daughter. You will take me back to Marine headquarters, I will be executed there, and you will be happy with that. I've gotten my dream. I had no intention of ever becoming pirate king—or queen, for that matter. I have the highest bounty in the world, and I've held it for years. It's time for me to step aside and give others a chance."

Garp was obviously perturbed—it had been years since so many of his own men had been killed in one fight, and the majority of them had been taken out this time by a middle-aged woman. He turned his irritated look on Helena, stepping forward onto a shard of broken stained glass that had been shattered from a window behind him. "Why the hell did I marry you, woman?"

Helena kept her smile up as she spoke. "I'm like a new toy; I lose my novelty very quickly. Look, Garp—I've already packed what little I'll need for the trip there." She indicated the bag hanging down from her shoulder. "Just agree to it. Have your bitch here"—and she gave a nod at Gaston at this, who scowled—"take the magnetic field off of my son's ship, let him leave, and I'll gladly go with you to be executed. That was part of your original negotiations. Did you honestly think I'd let you destroy this island or take my son in my place? Really, could you imagine," she continued in that same malevolently sweet voice, "what would happen to _you_ if I came forward and told everyone that you've been helping me and half of my crew hide on a remote island in the Grand Line for all these years? If you lay one hand on my son, I'd be happy to educate the world on that little fact."

"All right, wait a minute!" They all glanced behind Helena and saw Lyon doubled over, trying to catch his breath. As soon as the situation had sunk in, he had taken off like a rocket from where he had been standing with most of his crew at a safe distance from the excessive violence. There had to be something he could say here—it seemed unnecessary that anyone should have to die. He moved forward and opened his mouth to speak, but Garp interrupted him before he started.

"Kid," he said, "you have about five seconds to impress me. I doubt you can manage it, and if you can't, you're going to have to take your pick for who you want me to take along."

Lyon flinched. "Look, why does anyone have to die?"

"Four seconds."

"It just doesn't make any sense, you're just being—"

"No one has to die, I've already given you that option. Two seconds."

"You stole one of my seconds!"

"One."

"You're not getting my daughter."

"And time's up. Then who'll it be?"

"I'm not going to be responsible for anyone else dying!" he said loudly. "If you're going to take anyone, it's going to be me, and I'm not going without a fight!"

"Your fight's already won," Helena said, looking at her son. Her face was stern, but the coldness faded from her eyes. "You have a life left to live. I've achieved everything I wanted. Don't worry about me—"

"But—!"

"Listen to me," she said over his protest. "It's not your job to worry about me, it's my job to worry about you. I'm not going to have my son executed before he's even reached thirty." Lyon looked at her for a moment, then down at his feet, keeping silent. Helena turned back to Garp. "I believe we've reached a decision." She slipped the loop of razor wire from around Gaston's neck and it retracted back into her hand. "We should head out as soon as all the bodies are cleared out."

Helena moved away from the three men towards the Marine ship, checking inside her bag as she did so to make sure she hadn't lost anything from it. There were a few books, among them a thick one that was an anthology of short stories she had read a few times; a black flute, which was her second instrument of choice, as her first choice had been stolen years ago by her son; and a small bag of rose potpourri that had lost its smell years ago, which she carried as a good luck charm. She was going to need that extra luck if her plan was going to work at all.

* * *

Lyon sat in his cabin, flipping through stations on a small radio as the ship was being prepared to leave. He had left Janx in charge of getting the preparations done and Hizashi in charge of watching Karimi for the time—she was still insisting on being the ship's head compass. Only a few members of the crew had been injured very seriously, and even they were going to pull through, according to Clara's earlier report.

Somewhere near his door, Lyon heard Janx ask, "Why is it that I can never find coffee in this place?"

It was Ren's voice that replied. "I don't know, did you blow up the coffee maker as well as the oven?"

"Hey, now, you were just in a good mood a moment ago, quit being hostile. Mood swings throw me off."

"I'm a moody person. Look at me switch from joy to misery."

"All right, no need for the sarcasm!"

"I'll stop being sarcastic as soon as you replace _my_ oven."

"I told you, I tried! They wouldn't let me!"

"So buy one like a normal person!"

"But I'm _not_ a normal person."

"Yes, I think we've all noticed that."

"Oh, whatever." Lyon's door opened suddenly. He looked over just as Janx, who was holding a coffee cup in his hand, was shutting it. He looked over to the desk Lyon was sitting at and asked, "I need five thousand beli."

"Nope," Lyon replied immediately. Janx frowned.

"You haven't even asked why."

"That would be because I don't particularly care why," he said in reply.

Janx scoffed, walking over to the bed and sitting on it. "Cheapskate."

"I'm really not a cheapskate. I just don't like sharing," he said, flipping through a few more radio stations. "I'[m a pirate, what else do you expect? And what station is the Marine feed?"

"Why?" Janx asked. "Expecting the old guy to go back on his word?" Lyon shrugged in a so-so sort of way. He did indeed expect it, but he wasn't going to make a huge deal out of it. He would quite like the old man to come back with his numbers so depleted; he would be a lot easier to defeat that way. "Uh… try 89.3." Lyon tried it. The cabin was suddenly filled with opera music. Lyon glared back at his first mate, who shrugged apologetically. "It's eighty-something point three, I know that."

It turned out to be 87.3, and all the good that did him was tell him that Garp had yet to report back to Marine headquarters on the situation.

"It is assumed that Garp is still negotiating with Lyon D.—" Lyon coughed loudly to drown out the sound of his given name. Janx sniggered at this, and Lyon heard it and tossed an empty rum bottle over his shoulder at him, as the radio announcer continued, "— more commonly referred to as Lyon the Hurricane. He has yet to report back to Admiral Sengoku, who is growing increasingly more impatient with the vice admiral since it had been reported that the Golden Den Den Mushi was destroyed by Zabat Janx, known by most as Whiskey Bomb Janx. Also in the last report was that Lyon has apparently been travelling with his five-year-old daughter, and that she was involved as a part of the negotiations. It is not yet known how, but Admiral Sengoku will be sure to ask exactly what is going on upon the next call he gets from Garp."

Lyon sighed irately and cut the thing off. "Piece of shit…" he grumbled.

"What, the radio or Garp?" Janx asked.

"Both of them," he said through his teeth. "And the rest of the Marines," he added. "I say just give the government to the Revolutionaries and give the oceans to the pirates. Everyone would be a hell of a lot happier."

"And public execution for all the Marines," Janx added.

"Definitely," Lyon agreed. "I don't feel like Garp's going to give up this easily. He's not going to be happy until he gets me or Karimi, maybe he won't be happy until he gets her. I don't know. Speaking in terms of blood… she _is_ his granddaughter. He's worried. And honestly," he said, his voice growing cold, "I don't give a damn what he's worried about, he's not going to get near her unless he kills me." He looked at the radio sitting on his desk. "I'm going to have to keep checking."

Janx shook his head. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "I know if I was in your situation the last thing I'd want to do is make myself more paranoid."

"And what would you do exactly?"

He shrugged again. "Find an island that remotely resembled Jaya and drink as much whiskey as possible until I forgot what I was paranoid about to begin with. Paranoia is not good for pirates. Alcohol, on the other hand, is, and one can counteract the other very well."

"It's better to be on guard—"

"No, it isn't."

"But—"

"Look," said Janx, "pirates work out of spontaneity. Following? Good," he said, just as Lyon opened his mouth to protest again. "Now, you see, if we try to prepare and think about what's going to happen, then it's all going to go horribly wrong because pirates are usually too drunk to come up with a plan that actually works. And I swear," he said, pointing at Lyon accusingly as he opened his mouth to protest again, "if you suggest sobriety as an alternative, I will hurt you." Lyon shrugged and closed his mouth. "Now, you hadn't been planning on fighting earlier today—none of us had, really. And we still ended up winning. Granted it wasn't us that did the winning, it was your old lady going kamikaze on all of them, but that worked, didn't it? You see, the point I'm trying to make here," he said, when the confused look on Lyon's face suggested that he might attempt to protest again, "is that planning things out never did drunk people any good, because their plans are usually just as inebriated as they are. Being that the majority of pirates are usually against the idea of sobriety, it's also a bad idea for them to make plans, or to think about the situation they're in, because then they end up being paranoid. You see?"

Lyon blinked. "Not really."

"And there it is!" Janx said, as though confusing his captain was exactly the point he had been trying to make. "You're currently sober and no one else is, which means we need to find somewhere with a lot of alcohol so you can be on the same page as us." He stood up and made for the door. "I'll go give the orders and see if Compass Girl can locate any islands that fit the right description."

"But I feel like I need to be thinking straight," Lyon said, still blinking in a confused manner.

Janx opened the door and looked over. "Then you're too sober for your own good." He walked out and shut it behind him. Lyon's brow furrowed. Maybe he was right. Lyon usually had absolutely no trouble understanding the logic of drunken pirates. It was sobriety that made everything so confusing.

* * *

_And that's that._


	8. Injustice

_Chapter 8!_

_-is happy-_

_Though I feel terrible for what I went and did to Janx. Poor guy. No one deserves that._

_List?  
_

**Bricks  
Heart  
Punching bag  
Chicken wings  
Bulb**_  
"I really don't know why I put up with you."  
"Boredom is boring."  
"My super senses are tingling!"  
"I'm so tired I could sleep for weeks."  
"Think of it this way, when I finally get what I want, you won't have to work for me anymore."_

_And thar they be._

_And here this be:_

_**Disclaimer: **__Really, do you think I'd still be here if I owned One Piece?_

_**Warnings:** Piratey stuff._

_**Miniquote-thing:  
**__"Would you please remove yourself from my leg?" he asked Karimi.  
"No."  
"And why not?"  
"I saw a ghost and I'm scared."  
Janx shook his head. "There aren't any ghosts here. There are only ghosts on old abandoned ships. This ship isn't even as old as you."  
Karimi looked up at him. "Tell that to the ghost."_

* * *

Picking up a few unrolled maps off the floor of his cabin, Lyon sighed, unsurprised to find that they were covered in a variety of colorful stars and hearts and rainbows and random squiggly lines. This was partly because Karimi had gotten them out earlier and also partly because there were multicolored markers lying on the floor next to the maps. He couldn't complain; maps had no use on the Grand Line, and he couldn't read them anyway.

He put the maps and the markers away and headed out onto the quarterdeck, where there was the same general clambering about as always when the ship was being docked. Lyon walked over to the edge of the quarterdeck, where his first mate and his daughter appeared to be arguing about something to do with explosives. He cleared his throat. Janx looked over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Remind me why we're here again," he said, leaning forward against the railing of the quarterdeck and watching the crew disinterestedly.

Janx shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said, "which is precisely the point that's being made by our being here. I've already explained this to you. It's a bad idea for pirates to plan, so I'll figure out why we're here after I get off the ship and find the nearest bar."

"Look," Lyon said in annoyance, "it's better that we keep the ship moving in case Garp is still tailing us." He looked out at the chaotic-looking town, noticing how quite a few brick buildings were missing quite a few of their bricks. There even appeared to be a fire somewhere in the town, judging by the smoke that was billowing from one concentrated area off in the distance. He looked at Janx. "Better safe than sorry, you know?"

"Safety is boring, though," Janx said, waving a dismissive hand. "Boredom isn't good."

"At least boredom is safe."

"No," said Janx. "You are severely mistaken in your definitions. _Safety_ is boring. Boredom is, by no means, safe. It is has a very negative effect on sanity."

Lyon gave a snort of laughter. "And we all know you're sane," he said sarcastically.

"Not the point."

"Well, then, what is boredom?"

"Boredom is boring," Janx said. "Now come on, the crew appears to have finished docking the ship. We're all going to go party on this island and forget about the fact that Garp could catch up with us at any moment."

"No," said Lyon, "we are not all going to go party on this island, because someone needs to watch her." He looked down at Karimi, then up at Janx. "Because this was all your brilliant idea, I'll reward you with that task."

"Wh—wait, what?"

"Goodbye."

"Why can't I go?" Karimi protested. "I got to go on the last island and that one was dangerous, how come I can't go on this one, too?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

"I prefer keeping you out of danger," Lyon said. "The last island was an accident."

Karimi pursed her lips, tried to think of something, and then thought of something. She pointed at Janx. "_He's_ dangerous!" she said. "_He_ teaches me to make explosives!"

Lyon, who had just started to walk to the stairs to go down to the main deck, tripped over his own feet at this and turned quickly around, catching himself on the railing before he could fall. "He—?" He looked at Janx. "Right. No teaching my daughter how to make explosives while I'm gone, and I'll deal with whatever this is about when I get back. Janx, no blowing anything up while I'm gone."

He glared at the captain for a moment before turning around and proceeding to walk off. Lyon waited until he was out of earshot, then walked back over to Karimi and crouched down in front of her. She glared at him, still looking to be full of protest. "I want to go," she informed him.

He shook his head, looking rather serious, perhaps grim, and definitely worried about something. "I can't let you go because there's something I want you to do."

Karimi's head tilted to the side, and she tried to listen over the loudness of the crew on the deck below. She caught what it was after a moment that she was trying to hear. "You want me to listen for the Marine guy who took Grandma," she said.

"Right."

"And I probably won't be able to listen as good in the town because there would be too many people and it'd be too loud," she finished. She looked at the floor of the quarterdeck resignedly and nodded. "Okay…"

"Thank you." Karimi nodded again. "One more thing. It's Janx's fault we had to stop here, so feel free to give him hell."

Karimi looked back up quickly at this, she saw her father wasn't joking, and she grinned. "I can do that!"

"Without leaving the ship."

Karimi nodded. "I won't. Promise."

* * *

Looking out at the town, Janx gave a sigh. It was exactly the sort of place he wanted to be, and now that he was there, he wasn't even allowed to go have any fun. It was a load of shit. That was all it was. All that chaos and destruction that he wasn't allowed to have a hand in! He was stuck here watching a five-year-old tattletale, not allowed to so much as set one foot off of the ship. It was ridiculous. How could he, one of the greatest pirates sailing the Grand Line, have been reduced to babysitting? It was injustice.

Something tackled him at this moment, nearly sending him over the edge of the railing around the deck out of sheer surprise, and he looked down to see that the source of his injustice had just latched itself onto his right leg. He blinked at it.

"Would you please remove yourself from my leg?" he asked Karimi.

"No."

"And why not?"

"I saw a ghost and I'm scared."

Janx shook his head. "There aren't any ghosts here. There are only ghosts on old abandoned ships. This ship isn't even as old as you."

Karimi looked up at him. "Tell that to the ghost."

Janx rolled his eyes skyward. "I really don't know why I put up with you," he grumbled under his breath. When he looked back down, Karimi responded by sticking her tongue out at him. "All right, fine," Janx said. "I will tell the ghost that he's not supposed to be here. Where is he?"

"In the kitchen."

The kitchen was one of the rooms located directly below the quarterdeck. It wasn't very large, but was large enough. Ren generally tried to avoid letting anyone else in, lest anything should get blown up—which it generally did when people other than her were allowed inside of it, particularly Janx. Now Janx was entering the kitchen with Karimi cowering behind him. She followed him in a little further in and stopped behind him when he stopped.

"I don't see any ghost."

"There is!" Karimi insisted. "I was looking in that hole in the wall—"

"What hole?"

"That one." Janx looked behind him to see where she was pointing, looked where she was pointing, and saw a small hole that a mouse could probably fit into set close to the floor. "I was looking in it to see if there was a mouse in it because I heard a noise back there, and I looked in and there was a person looking back at me! It was a ghost, I know it was! Go look!" She pushed him towards the wall, and he stumbled forward out of surprise rather than any sort of strength on her part.

"All right, all right!" he snapped. "In the mouse hole?" he asked, looking back at her. She nodded.

Feeling absolutely ridiculous, Janx sighed and knelt down on the floor. Any remaining dignity he might have had upon being asked to babysit disappeared as he lowered himself the rest of the way to the floor and looked into the small hole in the wall. He didn't see anything, but something had obviously scared the kid out of her wits. Karimi scurried over to stand next to him. "D'you see it?"

"No, not yet."

"Keep looking, it'll come back an' then you can tell it to go away, right?"

"… Right."

Janx wondered how much longer he was going to have to lay on the floor looking through a hole in the wall. He waited about thirty seconds, and said, "I don't—" and was interrupted by a bucket of dirty mop water being upended over his head and Karimi running away laughing. "You little—! I'll—" Well, he couldn't say he'd kill her. If it got back to Lyon that he'd said something like that, then his head would probably be turned into a punching bag for awhile. He decided it didn't matter and he just needed to get off of the floor and catch her, then figure out what to do about it.

He jumped up, slipped on some mop water, caught himself before he could fall, and ran after her, out onto the deck. He stopped once there, thinking of something.

She could hear his thoughts. That meant she was going to be nearly impossible for him to find. Wherever he thought she might be, if she was there, she would quickly leave and go somewhere else. This was going to be _impossible_.

She was nowhere to be found in the storage rooms below the deck, nowhere in the sleeping quarters, not in her father's cabin. Janx eventually found himself back where he started, in the kitchen. He even checked the refrigerator in there, but all he found was an onion bulb that had gone bad some time ago that was letting off a horrible stench and a plate of something moldy that, upon closer examination, turned out to be leftover chicken wings that he had put in there almost a month ago. He grimaced, closed the fridge, and walked back out onto the deck. He walked around the corner and sat down on the stairs that led to the quarterdeck.

He really _would_ be used as a punching bag if he had managed to lose his captain's daughter in this short period of time.

Karimi was standing over the stairs silently. She had been in the fridge before Janx, and had found a carton of eggs that she was sure she could have quite a lot of fun with. Her father _had_ told her to give him hell, and she was planning on doing a grade A job of it. She took an egg from the carton, leaned over the stairs where Janx was seated, still wondering where she might be, and dropped it.

Janx jumped when something landed on his head. He reached up and grabbed whatever it was and found…

"Eggshell…?" He looked at the shell in his hand, then looked up to see the face of a demonchild grinning down at him. "Hey!"

The chase began yet again.

* * *

The crew didn't return until later that evening, and when they did, they found Janx collapsed in the middle of the deck, covered in raw egg, pieces of eggshell, feathers, and marker. He smelled of something like dirty mop water and looked as though he had been charged with some insane task that had utterly defeated him. A few stopped to snigger at him, but most just walked past and ignored him. Lyon stopped by him upon finding him and looked down at him.

"Learned your lesson, I take it?"

Janx managed to sit up and nodded. "I had to chase her all over the ship for five hours _straight_," he said. "I'm so tired I could sleep for weeks. I've learned quite well that the next time you tell me I'm watching that demonic little _thing_, I should run away very fast.

"And you were right about Garp, by the way," Janx said, standing up. He brushed a few feathers off of him. "She didn't hear much since he's too far off right now, but she did say she's almost positive he's still coming after you."

Lyon nodded. "I know. News channel on the television in the bar. It's public that I have a kid, and she now has her very own bounty of two thousand beli. Special bounty, since they're looking for her to be turned in specifically alive, and killing her will cause whoever did so to be pursued by a Marine Admiral. Garp's treating it like a hostage situation, and my own bounty has been raised a few million because of it."

"Hostage situation?" Janx said, and gave a laugh. "Anyway, she insisted on sleeping in your cabin, so if you want to ask her about Garp, then she'll be in there. And Compass Girl has decided to call her devil fruit powers her 'super senses,' by the way. Just for reference. So if, at any point, she says, 'My super senses are tingling!' you'll know why."

"I'm guessing you didn't know why."

Janx shook his head. "I had no idea what the hell she was talking about."

Lyon laughed. "All right. I'll go see if she's heard anything else."

* * *

Garp glared out at the water. The rest of the crew had gone off to sleep, leaving only the night watchman in the crow's nest with a telescope. It was only natural that he should be in a bit of a bad mood, being that his ship had just been taken over by the very pirate he had captured only a day earlier. The ridiculousness of it all amazed him.

"I don't know what you're being so sour about," Helena said, leaning back against the railing around the deck. "You were the one looking to get her away from her father in the first place."

"It's just general principle," Garp said. "I can't stand the idea of working for a pirate, regardless of whether or not it's one who agrees with me."

Helena shrugged. "Think of it this way, when I finally get what I want, you won't have to work for me anymore. I just want my granddaughter to be safe."

"Then why did you fight on Lyon's side in the first place?"

"Because it was a complicated situation that you didn't understand," Helena said. "He wasn't ever going to allow you to take his daughter with the approach you were taking. It's still doubtful he will even if you do understand everything."

"What's there to understand?" Garp said. "He knocked up some girl and got stuck with the kid. He was stupid and—"

He was interrupted when Helena retrieved her flute from her bag and hit him sharply over the head with it. "You insensitive jerk, think before you start spouting your mouth off! Now be quiet and listen, you might learn something."

* * *

_So, next chapter, we'll find out a bit of back-story, as will Karimi, as she'll be listening in on the entire conversation. I feel kind of bad for her, being that I already know what's coming._


	9. Argument

_Wooow. This took too long. The deadline is today, so that's how long -facepalms*_

**Cake****  
Tray  
****Ladder  
Locket  
Frock**_  
"Whoa...do that again!"  
"Never in my [insert number here] years of life have I met a bigger moron than you."  
"You did that accidentally on purpose, didn't you?"  
"Oh, my head. My poor, poor head! My glorious cranium!"  
"Do you have a needle and thread on your person? I would like to sew this idiot's lips together."_

_Okay, there's the list I didn't have time to type before. Sorry about that, by the way._

_**Disclaimer**: Seriously. I don't own One Piece. I mean it. Honest! Do I **look** like I'm Oda? Not that you can see me, but still!_

_**Warnings**: None that I know of.  
_

_**Quoteyfier!**:  
_

_Lyon only rolled his eyes and walked past his first mate, elbowing him in the ribs as he walked past. "Whoops," he said brightly. "Elbow slipped."_

_Janx just caught up with him again. "You did that accidentally on purpose, didn't you?"_

_"Of course not," Lyon said. His hand then also "slipped," successfully hitting Janx around the back of the head. "That was an accident as well."_

_"Oh, my head. My poor, poor head. My glorious cranium!"_

* * *

Janx stumbled down the stairs and onto the deck of the ship, looking around for wherever Lyon might have gotten off to. Once again, Janx had been left in charge of watching Karimi while Lyon kept watch to make sure they didn't fall too far behind. That meant there was probably only one logical place for him to be, and that was exactly where Janx saw him when he looked around.

In one of the lower watch points on the mast with a telescope and a bottle of rum. Of course.

He stood at the bottom of the mast and yelled up.

"'Ey! Get down here fast, she's heard them!"

Lyon looked down from the telescope and shrugged. Apparently deciding to neglect the ladder and the safety it offered in exchange for speed, he climbed onto the railing and jumped down onto the deck from the height of the watch point upon the mast and stumbled slightly, but kept his balance. He stood up straighter. "What's she heard."

Janx ignored him and said, quite sarcastically, "Woah… do that again!"

Lyon only rolled his eyes and walked past his first mate, elbowing him in the ribs as he walked past. "Whoops," he said brightly. "Elbow slipped."

Janx just caught up with him again. "You did that accidentally on purpose, didn't you?"

"Of course not," Lyon said. His hand then also "slipped," successfully hitting Janx around the back of the head. "That was an accident as well."

"Oh, my head. My poor, poor head. My glorious cranium!"

"Knock it off," Lyon said, rolling his eyes again. "This is a serious situation. Has she said what she's heard?" Janx shook his head no. "Just that she has, then. As long as we can keep track of them, we'll know what direction they're heading in. It'll be easier to lose them that way."

Karimi listened to them from outside the door of the cabin as her father instructed Janx to keep watch over the ship and make sure they didn't fall any further back or get any further ahead. They needed to keep the same pace they were going. As the door opened, she stared down at the small, gold locket hanging around her neck with an inward sigh. With what she was hearing, she couldn't tell him everything. It was things he didn't want her to know, things that would make him upset. But if she was going to keep it to herself, then she was going to have to do something about it.

She looked up as he dragged the chair from his desk over to where she was seated on his bed and sat down in front of her. This was going to be difficult to skirt around.

* * *

"Never in my thirty-eight years of life have I met a bigger moron than you."

Garp laughed his regular, booming laugh. Helena really couldn't remember what the argument had started about, but she was going to be the one to finish it. "You thirty-eight? You expect anyone to believe that?"

"Just as rude as ever, aren't you?" said Helena indignantly. "I don't look a day over thirty-eight! I could pass for thirty with the right make-up!" Garp laughed even louder at this. Scowling, Helena stopped a passing Marine on the deck, one of the young ones who had survived the attack back on the island. He looked at her fearfully. "Pardon me for bothering you, dear," she said, her voice becoming kind in an instant. "Do you have a needle and thread on your person? I would like to sew this idiot's lips together."

The marine blinked rapidly. "N-no, ma'am, I don't," he said slowly. Helena sighed.

"Oh well. Do you at least know where there might be an ash tray around here?" she asked. He nodded. "Mind running to get one for me?" With that, he was off like a shot, quite obviously willing to use any excuse he had to get away from the woman who had taken over the ship only one night ago. Helena grinned in amusement as he ran off. She really had sort of missed this pirate business.

Upon retrieving the ash tray from the nervous solider, as well as a cigarette and a match, Helena set off to find a new, preferably less crowded haunt. The kitchen proved to serve this well enough; breakfast had only just ended, and it would be another hour before any of the cooks came back. Helena opened a refrigerator idly, wondered why there was nothing but half of a cake in the large fridge, then closed the door again before turning to Garp. She opened her mouth to speak and was immediately interrupted.

"So are you going to keep avoiding the subject or are you going to tell me how the hell to talk your son into–"

Helena rolled her eyes as she interrupted him. "I'm worried, all right?" she said.

"About what?"

She crossed her arms. "There are things that he doesn't want Karimi knowing until she's older, and he probably has her listening right now to figure out what's going on and why you're still chasing after him after that deal was made. It probably is better that she doesn't know yet. But she's going to have to find out now, I suppose." Leaning back against the fridge she had just closed, she tugged at the bottom of the frock dress she was wearing as a shirt, a nervous habit she had developed years ago, as far back as childhood. "First of all, yes, she _was_ an accident, which happens a lot on any ship. So you're right about that much. And maybe not even a completely _welcome_ accident to begin with."

"See–"

"Oh, don't start," Helena said, waving a dismissive hand at him. "It was more complex than that. Lyon was in love with this girl, but she held a grudge against him for family ties. Apparently her parents were pirate hunters who went after some of the wrong people. People on _my_ crew. I never let anyone get away with that, and so many pirate hunters have fallen at my hands that I couldn't pick her parents out even if I was shown a picture of them. Anyway, her name was Sedna, and she despised Lyon for it for family ties. How he managed to talk her into joining his crew I can't even begin to fathom. Maybe she realized herself she was being silly, but she still always held a grudge with him. She was constantly serious about things, he was constantly goofing off, and she had to play captain most of the time.

"Now, _he_ claims love at first sight," Helena said, smiling a little humorously. "I doubt that, to be honest, since it hardly seems like any kind of fairy tale situation I've ever heard of. But regardless, by the end of it all, Sedna was a full fledged pirate in spite of her parents' wishes, and she loved him just as much. So when she died a couple hours after Karimi was born, you can imagine what it did to him, I'm sure." She raised an eyebrow at Garp who, for once, didn't interrupt her. She smiled a little at this. "Sedna had been planning to leave her life as a pirate behind and take a permanent residence at the island she had previously called her home, and taking Karimi. They'd both be safe there. When she died, Karimi was all he had left. He couldn't take the idea of giving her up or giving up on his crew, so he kept them both. He knows it puts her in danger, and he knows it takes away from his own potential to be a great captain. But he feels it's his obligation since it's his child."

She shot Garp a look at this, and he rolled his eyes, no doubt expecting an onslaught was about to be thrown at him. "You know why he feels like that, I'm sure. I'm not going to blame you. A job like this keeps anyone from home. But you have to understand his viewpoint, even if it is subconscious on his part. The main reason he doesn't want you to take her isn't because it's _you_. He'd feel the same if it was me. He just doesn't want her to grow up resenting him for never being there. You know firsthand about that."

Garp rolled his eyes and walked off. Helena glared after him and hurried after him, scolding him for walking away while she was trying to have a serious conversation with him, and it was roughly the tenth argument they'd gotten into over all of this that morning.

* * *

"Anything now?"

"No… it's still really weird… like static."

"Are we too far away?"

"I don't know… I don't feel good, can I just lay down and–"

"No, we need to know where they're going. What they're doing. _Why_ the hell that son of a bitch went back on his word."

Karimi stared at the long since abandoned chair her father had been sitting in. Now, he was pacing the cabin, pinching the bridge of his nose as one might in the case of a sinus headache. He was on edge, as was his temper, and it was all he could do to refrain from yelling all of these questions. It was hardly like it was Karimi's fault, so he wouldn't. He couldn't. He'd refrain from it for as long as he could. But he still needed a handle on the situation in order to know what to do next.

"We might be too far away…" Karimi said, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes. Lyon flinched and stopped pacing at this. He wasn't out to scare her, that was the last thing, but he no doubt was. He was scaring himself a little.

Grabbing the bottle of rum from his desk he had stopped nearby, he spoke, glancing over for only a moment at her. The fear in those eyes was too much to stand looking at. "How far?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice cautious. "I'm sorry–"

"No, no, you're doing everything you can to help," he said with a sigh. "Don't start apologizing. I'm not angry, just…"

"Scared?" she finished in a quiet voice.

His head turned of its own accord to look at her. So she wasn't afraid of him, she was afraid because she knew he was.

"No point denying it, you can tell when anyone's lying now…" he said with a smile. She stared at the chair again and smiled a little, but she looked to be on the verge of tears.

Karimi knew he was afraid of her being taken away, but she had her own idea. She had her own handle on things. Her father could be a better captain without her, he didn't want her to think that he had abandoned her later. She didn't fully understand how he could think she'd ever think that, but after her grandmother had said it, she looked into his mind, listened, and it was there. It was faint, just a whisper of his subconscious, but it was definitely there, constantly, plaguing him. It was probably a little louder since the meeting with Garp, but it was still so quiet that even he wasn't fully aware of it.

What was at the front of his mind were all of the other things she had told Garp, all of the things Karimi wasn't supposed to find out. He thought it might hurt her, and he didn't want to hurt her. She wasn't sure she would ever understand how adults thought entirely, but she knew it would hurt him if he knew what was going on, and she didn't want that. It would hurt him to know that his mother had been against him only long, even with good intentions; that she had told Garp everything knowing Karimi would be listening.

She knew that if this was going to end without any more fighting, then her time on this ship was growing short.

"I don't think we need to get that much closer. Just a little."

A little was more than enough. Marine ships were fast. Everything would work out for the better in the end. When she looked up at him this time, her smile was genuine, though she still looked close to tears. Little as she liked it, if it made her father a better captain and her safe and out of his already overly-worried mind, then it had to be for the better, didn't it?

Lyon didn't smile. He had to turn away after only a moment, his own eyes stinging. He had to keep some kind of composure, but he could see it in her eyes. Whatever it was she was hearing, whatever it was she had already heard and seen, she was growing up far too fast. Janx had been right about one thing, one thing he had said back in Jaya, even if it had only been in humor at the time. She truly had picked the worst devil fruit for someone of her age to eat. Her childhood was already nearly gone and it had hardly just begun.

The worst thing for it was that there was no one to blame for it but himself. He had left the thing out in the open, she had been just as starved as the rest of the crew since they ran out of food, and even if it looked a bit odd she was bound to look at it as good food. He pinched the bridge of his nose again in an attempt to calm his thoughts, which he kept forgetting she could hear. He cursed himself once again for letting them run amok of him.

He jumped slightly a moment later when something tugged at his shirt. He looked down at her. "Are you gonna tell the crew, Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"That they need to let the ship fall further back."

Right. That. Lyon cleared his throat a bit and started to speak, stopped when he realized he couldn't at the moment, then smiled and nodded and went to the door. Karimi went to sit back on the bed when he left.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to tell him after they did fall behind, or when Garp did catch up, but she had to think of something. This was going to be difficult.

* * *

_And there ya have it. No afterword, in too much of a hurry Dx_


	10. Tricks and Traps

_Only two more chapters after this! -sob- Nuuuuuuu!_

_I'm planning a sequel, though, and there's also the prequel._

_But still! I've loved this story to death! D: This is sad for me._

**Contract****  
Fan****  
Teapot  
Rooster  
Toga**_  
"What happened to your eyebrows?"  
"When you get rejected more than once, it really doesn't matter anymore. You become immune to hurt, I suppose__."  
"I don't feel like doing this anymore."  
"Hey, why is there a set of lace underwear in your things?"  
"Bang, you're dead. Or something like that."_

_Guess who the first question was asked to. Go on, guess. Seriously, it's not that hard to guess._

_**Disclaimer**: For the last time! I don't own One Piece, I only wish I did._

_**Warnings**: Plot development. Lots of it. Yeah, I know, strange, isn't it?_

_**Quoter**: _

_Lyon sighed and looked around, wondering where he was even supposed to begin with this. "There's a Marine ship." That seemed like a good starting point._

_"There's a lot of those," Janx said vaguely, still examining the apparent scratch on his gun. Lyon pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the doorframe._

_"Would you put down that damn thing and pay attention?" he snapped. Janx looked up, shrugged, and sat up, then laid the gun on top of a random assortment of clothes piled next to him. "Good. Now—" Lyon paused, noticing the clothes pile. "Hey, why is there a set of lace underwear in your things?"_

_Janx smirked. "Guess."_

_"All right," Lyon said. "I can guess on that. Now explain the toga." He pointed._

* * *

"How close are they?"

Karimi was shaking slightly. "I can't tell," she said quietly.

It was an obvious lie to her, but he nodded, and believed her. He seemed to be confusing the fact that no one could lie around her by thinking that she couldn't lie around anyone, either. It was far from true. Though she hated it, her new ability made her more able to lie if nothing else, because it helped her to know what people would believe. What tone of voice to use, what to say, how exactly to word it, everything. Right now, though it wasn't what he wanted to hear, Lyon nodded comprehendingly.

They were going to have to fall back further. He moved towards the door, but stopped when she spoke again.

"Daddy?" He looked back. "I don't feel like doing this anymore."

Still paused at the door, he looked at her for a moment, and her eyes remained on her knees. He opened his mouth to reply, could think of no reply, shook his head, and left the room with a sigh. Karimi looked up at the door as it shut behind him. Looking back down at her knees, she shut her eyes. Just a little bit more and there would be no avoiding Garp catching up, and then she was going to have to explain everything that was going on.

Not far behind the pirate ship, cutting smoothly through the water, was the overtaken Marine ship that was pursuing it. The person who had overtaken it stood towards the bow, staring out over the water, waiting for the first sign of sails to come over the horizon. That ship would be a difficult one to catch up with, if she was right, and it could have very well ended up being days longer before they caught the slightest glimpse of it. It had definitely looked like it was built for speed more than size when she saw it up close for the first time only a couple days ago. It was certainly a beautiful ship, especially when compared to the metallic eyesore she was aboard now. She glanced around at the ship, shook her head at it, and looked back out at the water.

"Hey." Helena sighed at the voice she heard speak up behind her.

"I don't believe I know anyone by that name," she said. She didn't have to glance back at Garp to know that she was being scowled at. "Now try again."

"All right. Helena—"

"And that's no way to address your captain." She grinned at the annoyed sigh she heard behind her.

"Fine, _Captain_," he continued. She glanced back, raising her eyebrows in recognition, and smirked when she saw his annoyed expression. "The lookout spotted a ship."

"_A_ ship?" she asked. "Just _a_ ship?"

"We're not close enough to be able to tell yet, but—"

"Right," she said. "Get the telescope from him, I'll keep lookout from here." She looked back out at the water, squinting at the horizon. She could almost see a pinprick there, but it could have easily been an island.

She glanced to her left when something clouded her peripheral vision only a moment later and saw a telescope there. For a moment, she merely blinked at it in mild surprise, and then she took it. "Thank you," she said.

She extended it from its collapsed state and looked through the lens at the pinprick. It was hard to tell anything, even with it magnified. It was no doubt a pirate ship, but the flag, while visible, was waving too much for the symbol upon it to be at all discernable.

Regardless, she said with certainty, "It's him." She looked over at Garp, who was looking at her oddly. She shrugged. "Mother's intuition."

"Of course," he said, obviously in total disagreement, if the tone of his voice was any indication. "You know—"

"What, too lazy to argue?" she interrupted, seeing the subject was about to be changed

He ignored her and continued, "I did the math—"

"_You_ did math?" She looked up at the sky. "Then where are the flying pigs?"

"And if everything you said earlier was true—about the kid, you know," he continued, a little louder, "then he would have had to have spent three years chasing that girl."

"Four," Helena corrected. "Karimi was born late in the year. But I congratulate you, I didn't realize you could add and subtract. Now, what's the point of this?" she asked curiously.

"I'm just wondering how he could keep it up for so long."

"You kept it up for five years," Helena said. "Granted you were just trying to have me executed. Wonderful job at that, by the way," she added, smirking. "Now both times you've attempted to take me back to headquarters to have me executed you've had your ship commandeered. Sorry," she said, seeing he was about to continue this argument, "only kidding. I guess you could say he's stubborn. Not like he gets it from anywhere strange. But I can see your point, being rejected that many times, you would think he'd have given up…." She looked through the telescope at the ship again. "But then again, when you get rejected more than once, it really doesn't matter anymore. You become immune to hurt, I suppose."

* * *

"Damn it, I should've had the bastard sign a contract or something saying he wouldn't follow me…"

Having left Karimi in his cabin to check and make sure everything was fine with the crew. Leaving Janx in charge was something he did only when absolutely necessary, since something was bound to go wrong if he was. It had been absolutely necessary this time, and something appeared to have gone wrong, horribly wrong. It seemed that there was a marine ship not very far behind them, and that almost definitely meant Garp.

"You think it's him?" Clara asked incredulously. "I thought you had Karimi listening for him."

Lyon shook his head. He wasn't exactly sure of how to answer that question. He had a feeling it was Garp. He wasn't certain of it, but no one else was pursuing him. The only problem was that if it was Garp, the only answer to Clara's question was that Karimi had been purposely causing them to fall back far enough for him to catch up, but that didn't make any sense.

"What's Janx doing?" he asked. "I vaguely remember leaving him in charge."

She shrugged as she looked down at the deck. "He left me in charge about a half an hour ago and went into his cabin. He mentioned something to do with something exploding and him needing to hide for awhile until Ren stopped trying to kill him."

Lyon rolled his eyes. "That would figure…"

He stomped back towards the back of the ship and bypassed the door into his own cabin. It was the other door he went for this time, and he swung it open upon reaching it and looked in. He looked around and didn't see anyone.

Then he looked down and spotted Janx lying on the floor directly beneath a ceiling fan, holding his shotgun above his head and examining it. Janx looked up. Lyon started to ask what in God's name he thought he was doing in here when he was left in charge of the crew, but it came out more as, "What happened to your eyebrows?"

Janx reached up and felt his eyebrows—or where his eyebrows had once been—and blinked. "Well, you see, the microwave—"

"Never mind," Lyon said, holding up a hand to stop him. "I take it that's why you're in here." He shrugged, then lowered his head back down and continued examining his shotgun. "And what are you doing?"

"There is a scratch," he said slowly, "on my gun. And I'm trying to figure out how it could have possibly gotten there."

"Well, you've only had the thing for what, ten years?"

"I know, it shouldn't have any scratches on it." He paused and looked up again. "That was sarcasm, wasn't it?" Lyon nodded. "Ah. Right."

Lyon sighed and looked around, wondering where he was even supposed to begin with this. "There's a Marine ship." That seemed like a good starting point.

"There's a lot of those," Janx said vaguely, still examining the apparent scratch on his gun. Lyon pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the doorframe.

"Would you put down that damn thing and pay attention?" he snapped. Janx looked up, shrugged, and sat up, then laid the gun on top of a random assortment of clothes piled next to him. "Good. Now—" Lyon paused, noticing the clothes pile. "Hey, why is there a set of lace underwear in your things?"

Janx smirked. "Guess."

"All right," Lyon said. "I can guess on that. Now explain the toga." He pointed.

Janx's eyebrows—or lack thereof—furrowed and he looked over at the heap of clothes, his smirk from only a moment earlier quickly turning into a frown. He spotted the toga Lyon was pointing to and shook his head, looking perplexed. Finally, he shrugged. "Whiskey, probably." That was more than enough explanation.

It really wasn't enough explanation for the gold embellished teapot sitting atop a desk in the room, but Lyon decided he probably needed to stop getting sidetracked by all the eccentricities of this room and get to the point. "Now, there's a Marine ship."

"Yes," Janx agreed. "We've already established that there are quite a few of those, I think, and that they seem to like chasing this ship. What of it?"

"Well, one of them just so happens to be chasing us right at this moment," Lyon said. "I happen to think it's Garp." Janx waved a dismissive hand and lay back down on the floor, grabbing his shotgun again. "Who else could it be?"

"Anyone else," Janx said. "Anyone _but_ Garp. You've got Compass Girl listening in on Garp's ship, we'd be the first to know if it was him catching up with us. And she seems to think he's too far away to hear, hence why we… keep having to slow down… and let them get closer…" Janx blinked, looking thoughtful, and then looked up again. "You think she might have been lying?"

Lyon sighed. "I don't think she…" He shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't. I can't see why she would, but…" Again, he shook his head, trying to clear all the annoying thoughts out of it. Rum, he needed rum. "Regardless, they're obviously pursuing us, they're not that far behind us, and I'm going to need you out there to keep the crew under control. Not in here wondering how a scratch got on a gun that's practically antique."

Janx shrugged and lay back down the rest of the way again. "Get someone else to do it."

"Do I have to go get the blind rooster out of the lifestock holds?"

"I'm not sleeping, it wouldn't do you any good."

"It wouldn't do you any good to have a rooster crowing at you while you're in here being a lazy bastard either, would it?"

Janx thought about this and nodded before standing up and putting his gun back in the holster strapped to his back. "Point taken."

"Good. Just keep lookout from the crow's nest for now, we'll hold the ship at the speed it's going now until . If you see any sign of Garp on the ship whatsoever, let me know."

"Are we going to run or stop and see what he's playing at?" Janx asked. Before Lyon could respond, Janx added, "I say we trick him. Stop, act like you're willing to negotiate. See, all right, here's how it goes. You're Garp—"

"Don't—"

"And," Janx continued, "I'm you. This is just hypothetically what could happen. See, you lead him off to negotiate somewhere that his crew can't back him up and then—" Suddenly and without warning, Lyon was staring down both sawed-off barrels of Janx's shotgun. "Bang, you're dead. Or something like that," he added, lowering the gun. "You know, with you at the moment as Garp, so that's meaning Garp's dead. Less bang, being that you don't know how to use a gun."

"I do, I just don't like them," Lyon lied immediately. "And don't point that thing at me." Janx shrugged, then walked out onto the quarterdeck past Lyon. "So, haven't seen the psychotic cook around anywhere, have you?" he asked cautiously, looking around.

"No," Lyon said. "Just hide behind everyone else on your way to the mast and you should be fine."

He nodded. "Right."

* * *

With a black flag depicting the head of a lion and cutlasses crossed beneath it now visible on the ship they were pursuing, there was no doubt of who the ship belonged to. They were close enough now that through her telescope, Helena could very clearly see the first mate stationed in the crow's nest looking back at her through his own telescope. Now, if her son didn't already know what was going on from Karimi, the truth would doubtlessly be revealed. There was no way around it.

She waved, causing Janx to drop his telescope in surprise. A moment later, he was hurrying down the ladder that led back down to the deck.

After around five minutes, something rather strange happened. It appeared that, only on the patch of ocean Lyon's ship was upon, that the wind had stopped blowing entirely. The water lay flat and smooth beneath and around the ship. Helena surveyed this phenomenon with interest. So this was the extent to which he could use his devil fruit powers, to control the very tides of the oceans themselves. Given that, it was surprising he hadn't already taken Gold Roger's title as the most recent pirate king.

Helena heard footsteps next to her and didn't bother looking over to see who they belonged to. She was fairly sure she knew already.

"This is only the fourth time I've ever seen that kid use his power," she heard Garp's voice say next to her. "Yours might look more dangerous, but _that_ is probably the worst power any pirate could ever have."

Helena lowered the telescope and looked at him. "I wouldn't want it to fall into the hands of any Marines either," she said, raising an eyebrow. "It's dangerous for anyone to have."

A gust of wind hit the Marine ship and increased its speed significantly as it caught the sails, coaxing yells of astonishment from the crew at their sudden increase in speed. Helena looked back in the telescope at the ship they were now moving towards so quickly. She hadn't thought he would be so cooperative, though it just as well could have been a trap. They would all have to be on their guard.

* * *

_And on that bombshell, I'm off._


End file.
